DoubleTale (Hollow)
by WhoWritesThisCrap
Summary: (Set in Xwolf26's Doubletale AU pls read the original story) Predator, Anarchist, Gatherer, and Hacker are 4 of the 21 children brought to this world by Gaster to end the Genocides. Most of them were saviors, others were demons just as Chara was. But who is Outsider, and does Cter even have the option of sparing them when her very existence threatens the SOULS of everyone he loves?
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHORS NOTE:** **This story is set in the exact same AU as Xwolf26's DoubleTale. So if you haven't read that I recommend you go there and read their story first if you haven't already. Here's why:**

 **1) You won't know who some of these Characters are and the significance of some events**

 **2)Major effin spoilers**

 **Xwolfs given me the green light for this project so I hope they and everybody enjoy it. And I hope I have the fuel and motivation to finish it. Again if you haven't read Doubletale already please mosey your litte hiney over there and leave them some feedback. Its hilarious, and the main character is a blast.**

 **To those who have read Doubletale I hope to do right by you and the characters so if there's any complaints, suggestions, or things you feel I've misinterpreted or misrepresented PLEASE TELL ME. Your feedback is crucial so that I can give the most authentic continuation of Doubletale that I can.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 1**

 **"** C'mon," said Predator, "you guys are like, what...fifteen...sixteen now? I'm just sayin', its _obvious_ that Chara is a boy."

Chara glowered over their cards across the table at Predator. "I'm sitting right here, you know."

Cter grinned mischievously. "Maybe they are, maybe they ain't. Either way, the only way _you're_ gonna find out is if you show us that hand, 'One Night Stand'," said Cter, voice dripping with lewd emphasis over the nickname he dubbed her.

Predator groaned flipping her cards over, Cter grinning victoriously. Two of a kind. "Core should never have told us about that timeline. Now things are just soooo awkward between us." She winked playfully at Cter as if to say, "yeah, as if."

"Speak for yourself," said Cter, idly rolling a black poker chip back and forth across his knuckles, slouching into his chair. He then put on his best Lenny face. "That just means I have something to look forward to."

Predator reared her head back at that, laughing fitfully. "The future is dark and full of terrors," she said in a spooky voice as she carefully removed her last sock.

"Damn," said Cter, frowning.

"What? I lost the round. Aren't you happy? You're that much closer to having a free peep show."

"Uh, yeah, but you're also ruining my 'Naked With Socks' fetish, so, lose the Assassin's Creed hood instead, Altair."

Predator quirked her brow. "Really? Naked with socks? You're not meeting my expectations at all, Cter. To think, I had always pegged you as a more upper-crust, 'Naked With Gloves', kind of guy."

Cter shrugged at this. "Why not both?" he asked sagely

Predator gasped mockingly, bringing two closed fists up to her temples before miming an explosion with her hands, demonstrating that her mind had been utterly blown. "Aaah, a new perspective on life. My mind has been expanded, o' revered seer of perversion."

"If you two are quite done spamming your FLIRT buttons," Chara said, a little too seriously, " _maybe_ we can move this game along so we can go home and get some sleep!"

Cter and Predator snickered quietly, sharing a look with one another, simultaneously mouthing the words ' _fun sucker'_ and pretending like Chara didn't know _exactly_ what they were saying and to whom it was being addressed!

Nobody said anything for a brief moment after that, but everyone at the card table knew Chara was secretly enjoying themselves too, whether they cared to admit it or not.

"Ah, the Chara," said Cter, "truly the most tsundere of card game enthusiasts."

Chara thought it best not to give Cter what he wanted and dignify that with a response; and was satisfied to see him actually pout a little when they didn't rise to the obvious bait. Best to know when and where to choose your battles after all.

Not for the first time though, Chara was beginning to wonder how they got roped into this high stakes strip-poker game, let alone agree to this stupid bet. Predator and Cter had been bar hopping across the Omega Timeline, going from Grillby's to Chillby's to, Freshby's, Muffet's and even 'Jerry's (Which nobody else went to for obvious reasons), as well as any AU grease joint Omega had to offer. After some time had passed, Chara - being the only grown up apparently - (and at the insistence of their mother Toriel) was sent to hunt Cter down and bring him home.

Next thing they knew, a supposedly 'smashed' Predator and Cter, came stumbling out of 'Muffets', draping themselves all over Chara like they were a coat hanger. Then Predator, out of nowhere, had insisted on knowing Charas true 'biology' since Cter had refused to tell her. Long story, short version? Things escalated, and now...here they were.

"Hey, wait a minute!" said Chara, coming to a sudden realization. "Is that the sole purpose of why you dragged Cter out here tonight? Just so you could get him wasted enough to tell you my...my…"

"Haha bingo! Ya caught me, Steak Knives! Call the S.W.A.T. why dontcha?"

Correction; Chara wasn't enjoying themselves. Not _yet_ anyway. Not until they won this game and had both of these irritating toddlers prancing around in their underwear, begging for their mercy….but demons don't have MERCY buttons. _**=)**_

And no, they did NOT have any other ulterior motives for getting Cter to prance around in his underwear. None whatsoever! But they did steal brief glances over at Cter when they thought he wasn't looking. Chara still hadn't managed to get him to lose that damn shirt! S-so they could humiliate him for it later, naturally...

Cter appraised his friend from across the table. "Uh oh, Predator, best watch out. Judging by that expression, it looks like Chara here just activated 'Try Hard' mode. Better call it quits while you still can." Cter was only half-joking.

Predator obviously wasn't impressed nor worried, or if she was, she was doing a helluva good job of not showing it. _Which is a good trait to have if you wanna have any prayer of winning a game such as this,_ Chara thought to themselves neutrally.

"Sorry lover," she said, ignoring Cter's warning glance and Chara's oddly defensive one, "but I came here tonight to kickass and give a shit...and I'm aaall outta shit."

Chara scrunched up their face. "Gross."

"Besides, Chara," said Predator, grinning the most oily, sinister smile Chara had ever seen a human wear. (Considering the kinds of messed up humans they had fought in the past - Cter topping the list - _that_ was an achievement.)

"I wanna know if it's true or not."

 _DON'T ask her what's true or not,_ a voice inside Chara screamed loudly. But their curiosity got the better of them anyway."...If what's true or not?" _Shit! What did I JUST tell myself?_

Predator folded her card hand and crossed her arms, leaning forward. "Whether or not you're a tasty flat chest."

Cter brayed like the jackass he most certainly was, laughing so hard and loud he disrupted the flow of conversations throughout the whole bar they shared with the heterogeneous crowd of AU's.

As Cter' and Predators laughter dissolved into hysteria-laced coughs, flesh stinging leg-slaps, and open-mouthed wheezing, Chara's knuckles began to turn white as snow, their cards trembling in their unsteady hands, face redder than a stick of dynamite and just as eager to blow.

 _*_ _where are the knives? =)_

The game continued on with a distinctly predetermined cycle. Cter and Predator would pretend to FLIRT with one another and ruthlessly tease Chara, irritating them. Chara would get pissed (of course) and threaten to eat their hearts and crap out their souls, all the while cards were drawn and chips were lost, gained, or exchanged; the clothing from all three contestants piling upon the wooden floor until a clear winner was no longer evident. At this point it was anyone's game. For Chara the stakes had never been higher.

"Heh," said Predator, "if Sans were here, he'd probably make a lame pun concerning how 'the steaks are too high' or something." Though she sounded her usual, confident self, Chara noticed Predator was concealing her undergarments beneath her cloak, wrapping it around her protectively on top of sitting with her legs pulled into her chest. Curious, considering her personality. Is she actually being - dare they say - 'bashful' in this situation? Shouldn't it be the opposite?

Chara thought she looked unusually subdued. _I mean, this is_ _ **Predator**_ _for Delta's sake!,_ thought Chara. They had never seen her in any scenario where the word 'subdued' could ever be considered an appropriate adjective to describe her...except...when...

Except for back then, when they had first encountered _him_ : Anarchy and his Dark Shadows…

* * *

" _Well, that's less threatening than flowey," said F-Cter. Predator did not share the sentiment; she crawled away from the shadowy figure as though he were plague-ridden. She gulped, throat dry as cold sweat ran down her face. Chara knew that look. That was the look people wore upon seeing a really bad memory come to life in front of them. Like a rotting corpse that doesn't know how to stay buried._

" _C'mon what's with that look?" The Shadow-man grinned, looming threateningly over Predators trembling figure. "I thought we had something_ _ **special**_ _?"_

* * *

"Maybe...we should go home," said Chara, glancing to the side, a hint of uncertainty in their voice, "or at least not take off anymore of our clothes. It's kinda weird and there are people present." They weren't sure if they were doing this for Predators sake or theirs anymore. Maybe it was both.

Predator glanced at them from across the table, her expression unreadable, Chara avoiding their searching gaze.

"Hey buddy," said Cter, "take it easy, nobody's gonna get past this curtain." Cter gestured grandly at the curvilinear walls of magic ink and keys forming a perimeter around their table, quite literally the only thing censuring their progression towards caveman status from the other patrons of 'Muffets'. "Heck, even if you lose Chara, and you really don't wanna spill the beans, I'll end this game right now and we can forget all about this, no matter what Predator says. You don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable." He winked encouragingly, smiling and sounding almost sincere for once.

Chara had to duck their head to hide their face in their bangs. _Gah!_ _He's always like this, braindead, and immature, and_ _ **infuriating**_ _,_ but... he's always managed to say the right things when it really mattered. The tiny smile they hid behind their cards was as furtive as it was significant.

"Why?!" Predator cried, sounding like her usual self again. "How's that fair?"

"Its not," said Cter, "and also, because I said so, and that's all a gentleman has to say on the matter!"

Predator rolled her eyes. " _Pfft_ , some gentleman," was all she replied, flicking a chip at him.

"Well I _am_ a connoisseur of the finer things in life. 'Naked With Gloves' is 'uppercrust', remember?"

"You would," said Predator

"Your words, not mine." said Cter winking his left eye shut.

There was a brief pause, and for seemingly no reason at all everyone at the table burst into another spontaneous show of laughter, even Chara.

"Alright, fine," said Predator shaking her head with mirth, "take your family jewels out of the antee then. Can't find out anything juicy with Big Brother over here anyway."

"I'm just here to protect that precious _smile,_ " said Cter knowingly, causing Chara to fall out of their chair, flailing as they leaned back on its hind legs before crashing.

Chara winced when the back of their head met the grease-stained floorboards. _Seriously_ , _why does he have to know_ _ **everything**_ _!?_

* * *

 **Underfell**

"Why won't you just die, you flamin freakazoid!" Underfell Sans' arm was a blur of violent motion, his victim being tossed around like a rag-doll, a gruesome chorus of sickening thuds and crunches echoing throughout the corridor. But all the little sicko trapped in Sans' _soul grip_ did was cackle maniacally and grin that face splitting smile of theirs, even as their bones were ground to dust and their insides pulverized to jelly.

Behind Sans, Frisk watched the carnage, trembling in trepidation, but it wasn't for the adolescent's sake that was caught in Sans' crimson magic they feared. It was for both their and Sans' survival.

 _How many times has he died now?_ Frisk thought to themselves. A hundred? Two hundred? A slithering motion drew Frisk's attention for but a moment, vines creeping hesitantly across the collar of their red and black-striped shirt. Flowey peeked over Frisks shoulder, dew drops glistening like sweat down his stark white face.

"Frisk," Flowey gulped. "Please tell me you have control over our timeline again."

Frisk glanced to the side, avoiding Flowey's gaze, a shadow cast over their face.

"Ahahahahaha! Seriously? Is this the best you morons could come up with?" A red flash blinded Frisk before the self proclaimed child Anarchy - a variant of the children spawned by the Doubletale AU - sauntered back into the judgement hall, good as new.

Anarchy yawned, sticking one finger in his ear drum, twisting it like a socket wrench. "I mean, even supposing-"

The ground exploded as several inferno-eyed demonic Gaster Blasters fired blazing death where Anarchy once stood.

"-that you do-"

Fusillades of sharpened bone flew past him, Anarchy casually matrix sliding on his knees across the tiles, effectively dodging them with his thumbs hooked in his pockets.

"-kill me-"

Sans jumped behind him, flinging Anarchy into a pillar before _flashing_ to safety, snapping his fingers to fire another volley of Blasters, while Anarchy casually redirected the beams by firing forks of violet hued lightning from his fingertips.

"-repeatedly, my **DETERMINATION** will still override yours'. Why do you think the Gasters chose me and the others to come here in the first place?"

Reappearing next to Frisk, Sans slumped forward, beads of sweat running down the sides of his skull. His permanent toothy grin grew tighter, face taut, like a spring wound past its breaking point. Anarchy waited patiently for more attacks from Sans. When none were forthcoming Anarchy spoke once more.

"Not a bad idea I guess, using a cobra to hunt other snakes," he said, shrugging. "But uh, problem with introducing exotic species is, they tend to eff up everything else, ya know?" Anarchy's eyes glowered with a demented, childish glee. "Course, he probably wasn't expecting me to put on my rape face and dust some monster bitches immediately after solving his Chara problem. Man, but you shoulda seen the look on my Gaster's face. For a minute there, he truly believed all the pain and death caused by the Genocides was finally over...only for me to turn around and do the exact. Same. Thing."

Anarchy reinserted his thumbs back into the pockets of his ripped shorts, tilting his head back and smiling wider than Sans thought a human should be allowed to. "Hi-larious!" and then he laughed like it was the funniest joke in the entire world.

 _*The Anarchist laughs, and keeps laughing._

* _It's SO funny he can't stop._

* _Tears roll down his face._

 _Woosh, woosh, woosh._

 _*But it's NOT funny._

The sound of flesh ripping, and a flare of agony dispelled Anarchy's cackling. He glances down at the jagged throwing knife embedded in his shoulder, cocking an enquiring eyebrow at Frisk, the child's body frozen in the exact same stance they were in when the knife flew from their fingertips.

Sans' whistle cut through the silence that stole over them like the blade that sliced into Anarchy mere seconds ago. "Damn kid, bout time somebody shut this creepy little shit up." Sans' smile relaxed to its more natural position, but his red light grew dimmer and dimmer, fading into the abyss of his socket. "Didn't know you had it in ya. Maybe you're not as much of a pansy as I thought, eh kiddo?" Sans reached over towards Frisk.

 _Not brat…k-kiddo?_ They flinched instinctively, their mind preserving every reset where they had been abused in one fashion or another by this skeletal Monster. They gasped breathlessly, when instead of a painful strike, Sans lightly patted the top of their hair, stroking it smoothly once, then twice more, before returning his bony appendage back into the shelter of his pocket.

Flowey was stunned into absolute silence by the non-violent gesture, and Frisk could barely register what had happened. It seemed like a pleasant dream within a nightmare: utterly impossible, but it was an impossibility they'd been longing for the moment they had encountered this intimidating Monster. In Underfell, Sans had always been their greatest obstacle, and it stung Frisk terribly knowing that even if they forced The Anarchist to submit, Frisk would have to erase this moment between them to bring back everyone that had perished. What Sans was thinking right now, Frisk could only guess. The skeleton hadn't taken his sockets off of Anarchy for a second.

"Aaaww, you look tired, Sans" Anarchist said, ignoring Frisk. "I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to get a word in with you-" Anarchy paused, ripping the jagged throwing knife from his shoulder. "- **edgewise**."

He let the useless metal clatter to the floor, splaying his fingers into a claw while lightning crackled between them like a plasma lamp. "I mean, you've been forcing me to speak in fragments this whole time. That's kinda rude, ya know? Stylish when writing fight scenes, but still rude all the same."

"Yeah?" Sans panted. "Well keep wondering freak! Nobody ere's got any interest in what you haff to say. So how's about dis then? Insteada listenin to ya flap yer dirty brotha kill'n _mouth_ , why don't we give the Judgment Hall a fresh coat of human varnish?" Sans' left eye erupted into a red inferno, gold tooth glinting in the light. He shrugged his arms, palms flat towards the ceiling. "Whaddya say, brat?"

"Heh-HEH!" Anarchy merely wheezed, clasping his hands behind his head and closing his eyes as Sans' blood-red magic once again took threshold over their soul. The violent thrashing resumed, Sans basically turning the damn kid into a freaking paint roller while Anarchy embraced the pain with a twisted, rapturous expression.

 _Slam!_

 _Crush!_

 _Splat!_

 _slsslicj!_

 _Plonk!_

 _PLssgh!_

 _Slock!_

 _Crackl_

 _...Thud…_

"..Ah..aha...ahaHA-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...AHAHAHAHAHA...aaaaah...ooow!"

"Tch!" Sans clenched his fangs together, readying another barrage of femurs.

Frisk covered their ears, wincing their eyes shut. This was awful. _God...please stop. I want this to stop already!_

It wasn't too long ago that they had been treated to the same kind of hospitality Sans greeted them with whenever they dared go any further than New Home. Watching this was brutal for them in a lot more ways than they cared to remember.

"Frisk, please!" Flowey whispered urgently. "Leave the trash-bag. Asgore and the **SOULS** are in the other room. You don't owe these bastards anything. After everything they've done to you - to _us_ \- what good does it do you to protect them? You've given this timeline more chances than it deserves. Let this creep put it out of its misery already and get out of here while we still can!"

Frisk glanced down at their shoulder, tears collecting at the corners of their vision.

"We've already learned we can break the barrier if I absorb the Six Human _SOULS_ , without needing to absorb yours."

"..." Frisk bit their thumb, their eyes widening with a sudden realization.

"Fri-?"

"Flowey." The human child sprinted towards the exit of the judgement hall, setting their friend down in a crater where the tiles had been blown away. Plenty of churned soil. Flowey wouldn't have any trouble using it to escape. "I trust you Flowey, you know that don't you?"

Flowey merely looked at them, shock evident in their features. Frisk pressed on.

"But If you want to escape I won't hate you for it Flowey. I could never hate you. We've been through so much. I never could have gotten as far as I have without you supporting me all the way. No matter how scary or painful things were. You helped me stay **DETERMINED**. Not merely to survive but to show this place what it's like to be happy again. I don't want to give that up. I can't just let all of our work be for nothing. But it would be selfish of me to risk your life for the sake of my dream. Do you understand?"

"Frisk…I-"

"Please go! If this doesn't work I want at least one of us to survive."

"You..you IDIOT! You think its _sooooo_ cool - sacrificing yourself all the time. Well, it's not! That's just stupid! Why can't you do right by you for once and stop playing martyr to these fools!? I'll tell you what I think is selfish! You think it's easy for me, watching the only person I could possibly care for be mutilated over and over again. Oh! I get it! 'Flowey doesn't even have a SOUL, so he wouldn't ever be hurt seeing his BEST FRIEND die hundreds of times to people he despises!' That's pretty damn selfish of you, ya know that!?"

"F-Flowey no, that's not what I-I don't want to leave things between us like this! Not like this!"

But Flowey wouldn't have it. He'd already heard all of this one too many times before.

"If you wanna crucify yourself so bad, be my guest! Far be it from me to convince you otherwise. Hasn't worked before, and even when death is all but certain, I still can't manage to squeeze it into your thick skull. Never could. Never will!"

Frisk reached out, both hands trembling, silent tears running down their cheeks. "Flowey...wait, I'm sor-"

Flowey growled, clenching his teeth, avoiding eye contact, his stem shuddering violently. "I can't watch you do this anymore...Goodbye, Frisk."

And with that he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note:**

 **Shout out to these Reviewers: Raventalon, madmalitiangamer, Guest, Fluffysheeplion, and ofcourse who could forget Xwolf, the man the myth thelegend who inspired me to WriteThisCrap in the first place.**

 **Seriously I Must know what you guys think! Faves and Follows are great, But I would trade them all for a piece of your minds. I'm serious on this!**

* * *

 _"Where am I? The shadows are cutting deeper. It's so cold here, and there's so much...room." -Outsider_

 **CHAPTER 2**

Predator screamed at the reddening cowboy. "Justice! What the hell?!"

'Justice' had his wide-brimmed hat squashed between both hands, pistol holstered once more to his waist, eyes downcast, foot tapping nervously on wood.

Chara was looking none too pleased by the violent intrusion either. Cter of course just took it all in stride, despite there being a massive hole in the dome of ink where there wasn't before. Justice had been entirely responsible for that, as well as the splotches of ink that now stained everybody's skin and clothing.

"Apologies, maam," said 'Justice' earnestly, "b-but I tried knockin somethin fierce-"

"Somethin fierce?" asked Predator. 'Somethin fierce! I'll give _you_ somethin fierce!" Predator hopped out of her chair, advancing on Justice, who backed up till he hit the remaining wall of keys and ink mortar behind him, staining the back of his brown pancho black. Predator stabbed him square in the chest with her pointer finger, hellfire sparkling in her eyes. "What the hell was so important that you couldn't wait _five_ minutes for us to put our damn clothes on before blowing a g-damned hole in the wall! With us inside I might add! You coulda killed someone!"

Justice grimaced, but seemed a little affronted at the same time. "Cap'n, cmon now, you know I' aint dat reckless. You've experienced firsthand how' well I can control the penetration and collateral damage of mah shots."

Cter perked up on the implied innuendo, and Chara gave him a scathing look that said, "Don't you dare!" but Cter returned the look with their own that said, "Sorry, but that's too good to pass up."

"Yeah, Predator," Cter said slyly, "tell us how you experienced his 'penetration' firsthand. Don't hold back. I wanna know just how well your lieutenant performs under fire; so I know what to expect when we fulfill the prophecy."

"Shut the hell up, Cter!"

Both Chara and Cter jumped at the aggression in her voice, raising their eyebrows at one another, Cter actually feeling speechless for once. This was a side of her they'd definitely never thought would see the light of day. Cter knew Predator was the leader of her self proclaimed intergalactic POPO. But seeing her in action and how seriously she was taking this was pretty astonishing to say the least!

At least, they _called_ themselves an intergalactic police force, but in reality they were just a glorified band of misfit mercenaries who didn't know how to be proper mercenaries. All Predator seemed interested in was fighting ne'er do wells at every opportunity, taking jobs for pennies and popsicles;and the more dangerous and suicidal? -the better! It was a wonder her band had enough money to keep themselves and their equipment in top gear, but every one of Predator's members were handpicked volunteers who just wanted to protect the multiverse from psychopaths like Error!Sans and despots like Gatherer. "We're a charity organization that donates ass whoopins 'cross the multiverse to needy world class pieces of shit!", was how Predator phrased it when asked by anyone what the IGP was. It was even on their flyer. But, judging by the way Predator was eyeballing 'Justice' like she wanted to scramble him sunny side up, the IGP might end up looking for new members to apply for second in command...

"I don't care if you can fire that pea shooter point blank in my eyeball and all I get is conjunctivitis lieutenant! Next time you shoot that thing in Omega, I'll have you back home on that farm of yours, so shoulder deep in cow anus, the incredible Dr. _POL_ will go out of business! Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant Clover?"

"Conjunctivitis? Well, dats a five dollar word if I ever heard one. Most'a my folks back home just say pink-eye-"

"JUSTICE! " Predator yelled, causing him to jump. " I am only going to ask you one more time, and _this_ time you better give me the answer I wanna hear. Is that clear?!"

"Y-yes'm-"

"Sound off, lieutenant!"

"Sir! Yes, sir!"

"Holy mother Teresa on the hood of a Mercedes-Benz! You sound like a majestic! _F##king_! EAGLE! Now...you better give me a _damn_ good explanation for this! Or so help me-"

But before Predator could spill into another vicious tirade, 'Justice' was spared further verbal (possibly physical) humiliation, by a soft, timid voice that sounded like the equivalent of feathers falling on fresh snow.

"It was my fault, Predator. Don't be too hard on him. Really! I should've told you directly myself, but I know how people react when I reveal my presence all of a sudden. Especially considering what you guys were doing in here..."

Everyone turned to see a pale, monochromatic child, completely devoid of all color; grays and whites being their only palette. A pair of pitch-black oval eyes peered from their childish face, blacker than the bottomless depths of the deepest ocean trenches.

"Core-er-I mean...Frisk!" Predator withdrew from Justice, who slid down to the floor ,sighing in relief. "Sorry. I know you hate it when people call you 'Core' to your face. My bad…,"said Predator, back to being flustered again, wrapping her tattered gray cloak around her exposed torso.

Chara and Cter could only shrug at each other, confusion evident in their features. _What was up with her today? Has she just gone completely bi-polar or what_?, thought Cter.

Core!Frisk giggled good-naturedly into the palm of their hand at Predator's apology, causing Predator to blush fiercely. Cter beamed with evil energy. _Oh my god!_ , he thought. _I know she and Frisk back home are kind of an item right now but-damn! She's head over heels for the adorably creepy lil tyke too!"_ How could he use this against her? He schemed internally, stroking an imaginary yet supremely villainous goatee.

"Tee-hee, it's alright, Predator," said Core!Frisk. "You know I gave you permission to call me 'C' a long time ago. I understand it's to avoid confusion when there are so many other Frisk's present. Anyway, that's not important, and not what I'm here to discuss."

"Yeeeah, might wanna get to that before Predator converts McCree over here to bestiality," said Cter, gesturing towards 'Justice' or 'Clover', or whoever they were.

Clover gave Cter a dirty look, prompting Cter to smugly take a sip from the rim of a cup of 'spiked punch' while chiming, "Victory sip!" as he did so.

"My name. Ain't. _McCree_!"

"Said McCree," said Cter, "and also... _that's_ what offended you? Not the whole, me implying future intercourse with farm anim-"

"Oooookay," said Chara, diplomatically interrupting Cter before he could add another member to the 'I Hate Cter's Guts' fanclub while also protecting everyone's nights from becoming sleepless before _that_ image got stuck in their heads. Chara thought about that for a moment, giving Core!Frisk a sympathetic look, Core!Frisk just sighing back at them, flashing a wan smile of acceptance that seemed to say, "It's the cross I bear." Most people failed to consider how omni-presence wasn't just 'rainbows and unicorns'. Sometimes you had to see the rainbows _breed_ with the unicorns, whether you wanted to or not…which got Cter thinking (which is never a good thing).

"Hey 'C'...just out of curiosity and, this is just a hypothetical question, is there actually a universe where…" Cter rolled his hand, "ya know..."

'C' breathed the deepest and heaviest of exhalations. "Yes, Cter...there is."

"Wow..." Cter pursed his lips together, smacking them a few times before taking another sip from his punch. "Welcome to the internet," he said, raising his glass, confusing just about everybody in the room except for Predator and 'C'; both of whom nodded simultaneously in solemn agreement.

Clover just shook his head, muttering a colorful southernism under his breath, "Crazy folks make about as much sense ter me as tits on a brass monkey."

"Hah! Cter snapped his fingers, pointing at Clover. "Tits."

Clover decided it was best to ignore Cter and get on with his business. The more he listened to him speak the more Clover was sure dat boy only had one oar in the water. "Sorry, Cap'n I didn't mean to kick up a ruckus, but this is important. We got us a job, and I think your gonna really enjoy this one ma'am. Hell, so am I for dat matter."

"A job? Why didn't you say so sooner, Hayseed! Cmon, spill it now. Who what where when and how much? Not that I care about the 'how much' part. Giving those pricks a beat down is its own reward."

"Yeh, I figer'd you'd say dat, which is good cause this request actually came from yours truly," Clover pointed towards Core!Frisk, "and I' ain't sure how much loose change he fits in dem peepers."

"Oh, you'd be surprised", said _C_ , smiling clandestinely. It was an odd feature; Cores vacant eyes seemed to function like some sort of infinite storage compartment. They worked under the same principle as the children's dimensional inventory boxes. The only issue was _C_ couldn't fit or remove anything larger than their oval sockets would allow. Cter couldn't help but snicker at the thought of shaking _C_ up and down like a piggy bank for some coins though.

Predator and Chara seemed to get an idea of what Cter was thinking and gave him a really nasty look that promised pain and torment if he dared to express it out loud.

 _Yeah_ , he thought, _guess that'd be pretty rude even for me._ So he let it slide. Besides, they all owed _C_ more than they could ever hope to repay. Not that _C_ would ever want them to, or think that they should. But it was nice having an all seeing omnipresent being that was benevolent for once.

Everyone's attention turned back to _C_ who spoke once more. "The 'where' is Underfell. The 'when' is ASAP, and the reward is substantial. No, don't give me that look, Predator. I won't have you endanger you and your team because you guys are low on funds. Honestly! You should study the value of trade and economics in your spare time. Some education would do you some good. Wipe that smug look off your face, Cter, that applies to you as well!" 'C' huffed impatiently before continuing. "This job is _extremely_ dangerous, Predator. And If I am going to be honest, I really wasn't sure if letting you know about this was a good idea. Part of me still has reservations. But the Frisk there needs help. Something really...bad is about to happen, and I am confident that this Frisk is trustworthy enough to be granted refuge here in Omega.

Chara looked at _C_ their face darkening beneath the fringe of their bangs. "Its another Genocide, isn't it? And judging from what you said, that means this Frisk and their Chara aren't responsible for it this time. Is that right?"

And just like that the mood dropped like a broken thermostat.

"...Yes," said C, "that is correct."

"You haven't told us the 'who' yet," said Predator. Her voice carried a certain edge to it. She had an idea of who was responsible but couldn't bring herself to name them. Cter noticed Predators scythe had flashed into the palm of her hand and Clover was stroking the butt of his revolver with a dangerous familiarity that made Cter reassess whether the yellow soul was as harebrained as he initially thought.

 _C_ gave them all a very serious look. They walked a few paces toward the makeshift door produced by Clover. Their back was turned to the group, hands folded behind them. _C_ paused for a brief second, taking a deep breath before turning their neck to address them, gray bob-cut swaying with ephemeral motion. "Its another Anarchy, he's back."

* * *

"If please was really a magic word I wouldn't be who I am? Now would I, Frisk?" Anarchy tilted his head as he brought his heel down on San's patella, smashing his remaining leg in half with a sickening _crunch!_

"GaAAGAAAARRRRRAH!" San's agony reverberated up and down the halls of judgement and once again, Frisk couldn't help but feel a queasy sense of limbo watching Sans go through what they themselves had experienced SO many times before. It was as if they were peering into a twisted mirror of reality where the people within had - not been shattered - but shifted to another plane of existence entirely; the roles reversed, the tables turned, and yet...

As Sans writhed beneath Anarchy, his health a measly 0.2 out of 1 HP from turning to Dust, memories flashed through Frisks mind. There was the time where they had first encountered the skeleton. Frisk remembered how shocked and frightened they were when his voice sounded ominously behind them in the chilly forests of Snowdin. How much their arm shook when they reached out to oblige his request after hearing him say, "Human. Don't cha know how to greet a new pal? Turn around, and shake my hand."

They remember Flowey's whispered warning from their backpack, "Don't. Let him. Know. _Anything_ about you!" The terror in Flowey's voice alone was enough to convince them not to question the wisdom of his demand. At first, they weren't sure what Flowey meant, not even after they had shook San's hand and been _slowly_ electrocuted to death by the buzzer strapped to his palm. Not even after the second time, or the third, or the fourth, or the…

But they promised Flowey they would listen. Flowey made them swear; every time. No matter how many times they died in this excruciating, torturous fashion, they swore they would do things exactly the same way; like it was just a cheap script written by a sadistic playwright. The same lines. The same expressions. Even down to the screams. Until eventually...hopefully, something new would happen. And on the thirteenth time, right as Frisk made for the buzzer, every single cell in their body screaming at them to flee, to fight, to do ANYTHING else, at the last minute…

"Ha! _Pssssyche_!" Sans yelled, rudely (mercifully) swiping his hand from Frisk's grasp. " **Left** ya hangin there, didn't I?" He laughed, winking his right eye shut, chuckling at his own pun. Frisk guessed it was appropriate since the buzzer was in his left hand. As many times as they shook it, how could they ever forget that minor detail?

"Can't believe you fell for it!" Sans bellowed. "Oldest trick in the book. But when it works... Heh, it's _always_ funny. Aaaany way, you're a human, right? That's hi _larious_ l!"

Sans went on to tell them how he was supposed to be on patrol hunting humans, but was too lazy to care for it. Now his boss Papyrus on the other hand, HE was a human eviscerating fanatic! Frisk wasn't even paying attention since all they could hear was the looping utterance of the same gratitude to a nameless god they'd been repeating over and over in their head once Sans stopped killing them. _Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you..._

"Hey buddy," said Anarchy, "watcha thinkin bout in that cute lil noggin of yours? You spacin out on me? That's kinda rude, ya know?" Frisk yelped as Anarchy appeared with their demented joker grin inches from their face, a whoosh of air the only thing signifying his movement. He had been at the opposite end of the hall.

"S-stay away from me!" Frisk lunged with the knife they had furtively picked up once Sans' and Anarchy's duel moved a safer distance. They had learned long ago that being defenseless in Underfell was a recipe for disaster and they would not be helpless again if they could help it. The sharp point swatted across Anarchy's cheek. Frisk had expected him to easily dodge the strike, but Anarchy merely took a slight step backwards, grabbing Frisk's wrist in the process with the knife still in his clutches.

A small weeping gash marred Anarchy's albino skin. Droplets of blood were licked clean from the blade by his slimy tongue, and to Frisk's horror he ran the obscene muscle across the smooth skin of their hand. His grip was crushing, and all Frisk could do was kneel and sit helplessly while Anarchy coated their fingers with gooey saliva; their flesh crawling from the sensation as though a million insects had swarmed and enveloped their entire body.

"Hehe, don't like my affections? Am I being too forward with ya? That's funny, most Frisks I've met seem to think they can flirt their way out of anything. But...judging by that expression, I have a feeling you know better. After all, you and me, we come from a tougher neighborhood, so to speak. The rest of the spoiled brats out there wouldn't know hardship if it was shoved up their tight entitled assholes!"

Frisk wasn't sure how or whether they should even respond to that, so they kept quiet. Honestly, they were shocked their arm was still attached to their body.

Anarchy glanced down at them. For once that creepy smile formed into the semblance of an expression resembling traces of sanity. "Look, I know about your universe. I know how these guys operate. Its part of the reason why I came here, ya know? And there"s nothing I enjoy more than taking out weak trash that talks a big game!" He turned his head to holler at the collapsed skeleton. "Ain't that right chuckles?" Sans' form shuddered, and from a distance it appeared to become less and less stable. Anarchy continued:

"As much fun as this is, it gets a little tiresome fighting and blowing up the same timelines over and over. Yeah, yeah, there's a million different versions of everybody out there, but they almost all basically fight the same, and some of them just trade powers or have more of it. But its generic, old, weak, bullshit far as the eye can see. Yady-yada-ya s _oul grip_ , OOOH Gaster Blasters! Scary! Gasp! Oh no! The Undyne's coming back to life! Go figure that one out, Copernicus! What eva shall I do? _Boooring_! And ya know...a thought occurred to me."

Frisk flinched as Anarchy's joker grin returned with bowel shaking malevolence.

" _Maaaybe_ , it would be fun to watch someone else get in on the action!" Anarchy slapped the knife in Frisks hands, wrapped an arm around their shoulder, picked them from off the floor, and wheeled them in the direction of Sans heaving miserably on the ground.

"Well, buddy?" asked Anarchy. "Wanna be friends and have at it? I'm feeling pretty generous today. I don't normally offer prey, but you can have my leftovers if ya like. And ya know how the ol' sayin' goes. Sharing is caring! Golly, aren't I a swell piece of humanity!?" His last statement prompted the white-haired child to cackle hysterically at everything and nothing, dragging Frisk helplessly towards Sans shimmering remains, sick chortling ringing through their skull.

Clutched in Anarchy's merciless grip, face pallid, body cold and numb; Frisks' mind couldn't process the unfolding terror, even as it was happening in front of their very eyes.

* * *

 **Review Questions:**

 **1)What's your initial thoughts and reactions after reading this chapter?**

 **2)What was your favorite scene and why?What was your least favorite scene and why?**

 **3)What are your thoughts on the Characters?**

 **4) On a scale of 1-10 how much did you enjoy the chapter?**

 **5) On a scale of 1-10 how eager are you to read the next chapter?**

 **6) Do you have any predictions?**

 **If I don't get feed back I'm gonna have a friggin MELTDOWN!**

 **On another note the "I Hate Cter's Guts" fanclub is currently recruiting new members despite already growing at an astronomical rate!**


	3. Chapter 3: Mob Mentality

**Authors note**

 **Hey guys. Love that feedback I got. Much of it was very valuable. The punctuation and grammar in ch 2 was _cringe a la cringe._ Definitely something I'll try to be more mindful of. I've also decided to dial it back a little bit on the Justice accent as that was what most people seemed to have a problem with. Did a little research on proper use of dialects when writing and it gave me some new perspective. I don't want him to become a parody after all, even though in a story like this parodies abound! **

**Special thanks to new reviewers : MachUPB, DiamondAuthor551, I Guest as Much, Spontaneously Artistic, and of course Xwolf for their continued endorsement. **

**Don't be shy. Your input is invaluable. Especially the critiques.**

* * *

 _As I gazed upon the Void, I despaired briefly, til I realized I could draw strength from futility; because of how certain it was. Faced with such a volume, I realized even the emotion of my grief was a comically wasteful endeavor. So I ceased to harbor such a thing, and I became an abyss walker." -O_ utsider

 **Chapter 3:Mob Mentality**

 _OMEGA_

Predator and Justice made their way through the crowds of Omega, Predator muttering to herself furiously. She had her hood pulled up, arms hanging straight and stiffly at her waists, fingers clenched into fists. "Stupid Cter. Stupid Hacker. Think's he's too cool for my group…"

Clover trailed behind his boss. He ducked and weaved around a colony of Moldsmal's jiggling along the walls of an a MTT resort, built right next to another MTT resort. The structures were under constant construction, their respective Mettaton's trying to outdo the others in grandeur and scope; each vanity project racing to be the first to scratch the blank parchment of Omega's sky.

Above them, a fleet of star-ships from Outertale hovered quietly, beaming passengers from various AU's up and down in shiny, rainbow-colored tractor beams. These transported Monsters and humans to different areas of the pocket universe, or to completely different realms entirely.

A hundred variations of Grillby's restaurants lined the streets. Nice Cream stands hawked their delicacies on the sidewalks, each of their clerks claiming that their cream was much nicer than their competitors. Lovely Cream. _Mi Amor_ Cream. Enjoyable Cream. Pleasant cream...affable...congenial…(you get the idea).

"Starbucks got nothin on Omega," Clover thought to himself with some amusement. The cowboy stared in shock though when his head lifted to see a brightly lit Starbucks sign, advertising a chocolate mocha cup with cream art on the surface of the liquid, featuring Mettaton's face.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," said Clover soberly.

"Lieutenant, quit gawking like a country boy, we've got places to be," said Predator.

Clover replied neutrally. "I _am_ a country boy."

""You've been here before," said Predator, huffing impatiently. Her back was still turned to him, navigating between hordes of Monsters and humans, the vast majority of them identical to one another. Clover sighed miserably.

For the sixth time, he thought of trying to console her about Cter's refusal to join the IGP (again), and for the sixth time, he reasoned it would just be better to keep his mouth shut. It wasn't too long ago that he'd been walking on thin ice. Well, maybe he still was. He hadn't seen his boss get that mad since Anarchy, well…

Justice tilted his cowboy hat lower over his forehead, shadowing his features, he didn't want to think about that.

In hindsight it _had_ been a darn fool thing to do, blowing up that magic dome of keypads with all them people around. But he'd been honest about knocking and hollering on it as hard and loud as he could. Clover was starting to get incredibly embarrassed after a time. The Monsters and patrons gave looks varying from pity, to annoyance. A couple times, the bouncers had even tried escorting him from the premises. Justice could guess what they were thinking. He supposed he couldn't blame them. He must've looked crazier than a mouse in moonshine.

He sighed regretfully. "Guess I proved em right." He hadn't stopped to look before, but when he and Predator emerged from the dome he couldn't help but notice the change in atmosphere. Monsters avoided looking at him directly, and the more hardened ones like Swap Papyrus, the Sans', Chara's, and the Undyne's were giving him glares that could curdle milk. Core had settled everyone down, explaining the situation to them, while Clover apologized fiercely to each and everyone of em. He still didn't feel too hot about it afterwards though, especially since one of those looks came from his superior.

"Hey Cap'n...look...I know I apologized before...about what happened?" said Clover. "I wasn't thinkin proper. Not like a right-hand man ought to. I thought about what you meant. Folks here...lot of em come to escape violence n' hatred. Omega's a sanctuary for em, and I done brought bad times back to em, if only for a moment."

Clover paused, waiting for Predator to respond. She didn't.

Clover pressed on, determined to set things right between them. "But that's all it takes init - a moment? Jus' one stupid mistake? And...well, an organization like ours can't afford people of position who make dumb mistakes."

Silence.

Justice grew more uncertain, but he couldn't give up jus' yet. "I jus' want you to know that, if you feel like I'm unsuitable to be your successor after that fiasco, then I won't blame ya for it. I'll step down if that's what it takes. Gaster!Sans' got a good skull on his shoulders, and Alter!Toriel's a no-nonsense lady. Any one of em'd be a good replacement for-"

Predator halted, Clover almost running into her. "Justice." She turned around

"...Yes'm?," said Clover, heart beating a mile a minute.

Predator looked at Clover. Just looked at him, for what seemed like hours, Clover not daring to blink or break eye contact. The anticipation was killing him. He was about to open his mouth when all of a sudden she screamed, "This! Is! SPARTA!", scaring and confusing the hell out of him. Little did Clover know, Predator had manipulated the code, summoning a portal directly behind him. She front kicked him in the chest hard enough to throw him off balance, his arms flailing wildly as he careened into the portal with a cry. "What in tarnation!?"

Predator leapt straight after him, the portal closing behind them. Wind whipped her cloak savagely, gusts threatening to rip it from her shoulders. A smile blossomed on her face. It widened and grew, his captain laughing merrily as both of them free-fell through the atmosphere of an unknown universe. " _God, I've always wanted to say that,"_ Predator thought to herself, giddy beyond comparison. She folded her hands behind her head, whistled a tune, and closed her eyes; attempting to briefly realize perpetual motion. Meanwhile, Justice spat out prayers and cussed thunderstorms. They spiraled through the clouds, both of them tumbling towards the earth at terminal velocity.

* * *

 _Meanwhile….Back in Omega_

Most beings - interdimensional or otherwise - would agree, that out of all the timelines and pocket universes comprising the multiverse, few can match the prosperity and peace of mind that Omega has to offer. But even Omega, is not free of unsavory markets. Yes, even prosperous, virtually crimeless Omega, has its seedy underbelly.

Hidden within the shadowed alleyways and junctures squashed between buildings, a cult of deplorable's gathered to trade their wares in the darkness. Core!Frisk, as always, observed the proceedings with a look of mild disapproval.

A group of five figures kneeled in a circle, the hoods of their sweatshirts pulled tightly over their heads, concealing their features. They spoke in hushed, worried tones, signalling the unsavory nature of their transactions.

Piles of stapled paper, flash drives, notebooks, and manila folders lay organized beneath their feet while each of the figures haggled and bartered with one another over their illicit wares.

"Alright, I brought the goods. You gonna hook me up?" said one in a black hoodie.

"Yeah, about that...look, I need a little more time," said one in a dark blue hoodie. I've hit a road block - so to speak. Hey, calm down man! No need to get physical."

"Look here! I came to get my fix just like the rest of you. But why is it that I'm the only one pulling my weight around here? These lemons don't make lemonade themselves, you know?", said Black.

Yellow hoodie frowned. "Not my fault. Bonezone's a pretty niche market. He shrugged. "Times are tough."

"Maybe you should diversify your portfolio." Brown hood spoke up.

"Oh, hey look! Red's here!" Black pulled down his hoodie, revealing Cter's face. He walked up to Red, both of them giving a complex sequence of handshakes before snapping their fingers at the end. "Thank god you're here. It's just font-cest and soriel trash far as the eye can see."

"Whatever!" Yellow Cter cried. "You guys just can't appreciate greatness."

Cter looked at Red, his fellow doppleganger, before waving a dismissive hand at the other Cter's. Red pulled back his hood, unsurprisingly revealing the fifth and last Cter.

"It brings a tear to my eye, seeing our face attached to these heretics," said Red Cter, shaking his head morosely.

"Bro, who are you tellin'?" said Black Cter - the original one.

"Are you guys gonna work each other's shafts all night, or we gonna get down to business?" Brown Cter called out, annoyed.

"Fine. Whatch y'all got for me?" Red sauntered towards the group, dry washing his hands in earnest.

"Wait!" Blue Cter held up a hand."First things first. You must offer tribute to the pile...what do you offer?" The others leaned forward eagerly. A look of tense apprehension on their faces.

Red sighed, smirking knowingly. "Yeah, yeah. I got it." He whipped back his trench coat.

At that moment, a glorious ray of light beamed down on him. Angels sang out an immaculate chorus that accompanied the overly dramatic motion, the other Cter's falling to their knees in awe. The sound of pens dropping, audible in wake of the hallowed silence.

His pockets were stuffed and lined with volumes of pairings, fluff, lemon, and smut. Pappyton, Charisk, Chasriel, CtError, Kingdings, Torisk, Friskriel, Frans, FemCharaXMaleChara (and everything in between), Mettablook, Alphdyne, KingDyne, Blookriel, MuffetXCter, Flowrisk, F-CterXMuffet, PredCter, MuffetPred. The possibilities were endless, the sin superlative! All of them never before read. But there was one thing that they all had been waiting for ...the long awaited conclusion of " _Double Heartache",_ the CharaXCter masterpiece! An enticing saga of love and betrayal, too precious for this mortal realm. It was ichor! It was Elyssium! It was a gift from the gods themselves!

Cter glanced to the side, hair falling over his face, fingers gripping his chin. "So...the legends were true."

Red Cter smirked quietly to himself with barely contained pride. In terms of magic he may have been the weakest version here, but when it came to Sin?- he was on a whole other level.

" _Bastard!",_ thought Cter. " _I'd trade all my magic for just an ounce of talent flowing through the veins of that perverted prodigy!"_

"So," Red Cter said, circling them, a predatory glint in his eye. He raised the copy of " _Double Heartache"_ in the air, sweeping it back and forth, the other Cter's following its motion with their heads in perfect sync with one another. Their eyes glued to it like cats enraptured by the dot of a laser pointer. "Shall we start the bidding?"

Cter smiled inwardly. He knew this day would come. He wrote his ass off all summer in preparation for this moment. He glanced at the other three Cter's, squawking desperately around Red Cter like baby birds.

Yellow Cter only wrote soriel and font-cest. The poor fool... he didn't stand a chance. Blue's characters were relatable, but his prose left much to be desired, and Brown Cter...Brown focused on quantity over quality. He produced sin like an industrial smut factory, even more content than Red did, but the quality suffered as a result.

" _Sorry boys,"_ Cter approached Red. " _But unlike you guys, I make my porridge just right, and Red is a Goldilocks if there ever was one."_

Red Cter appeared to be enjoying his power play, toying with the emotions of the others with a "well…" and a "I could trade it for that, Brown, but…", and a, "maybe if you threw in some charisk, Yellow...oh you don't have any? Shame…"

Cter almost felt sorry for them. But, you know what they say. All's fair in LOVE and sin. The other's saw him approach, falling silent. Red looked at him, curious, expectant.

"You've been awfully quiet back there, Black. You must be pretty confident," said Red.

"H-he's just bluffing." Yellow Cter squirmed, sweat drops glistening on his forehead. "Blacks probably just been screwing around all summer anyway. Probably writing ' **original content** ,'" said Yellow, flexing his middle and index fingers. "Nothing you'd be interested in reading, Red."

Red pushed past the other three, each of them giving Cter vengeful looks. "I'll be the judge of that," said Red. They all knew that out of everybody here, Black Cter was Red's best barter buddy.

"Oh, I've been productive all right." said Cter.

Red raised an inquisitive brow. "Don't talk about it brosky, be about it."

"Heh," Cter cracked his knuckles. "Very well! **BEHOLD**!" Cter snapped his fingers, summoning his spatial inventory box, the sturdy chest landing with an epic thud, whipping up dirt particles in the alleyway, Cter confidently Captain Morgan posing atop it.

Red stroked his chin. "I'm beholding…"

"Ladies and gentleman! Cter's and Cter's!" Cter gestured grandly. "Sealed within this chest is the blood, sweat, and labor of a man who proudly knows and is passionate towards his craft. Not only does it contain my own work, but my entire collection of fellow authors from our previous universe. Yes, our favorite sin, produced by countless Undertale content creators! I have faithfully reproduced our lost ark!"

The screen split into separate frames for each individual Cter, one after the other giving a collective exclamation of: "Ah! - Ah! - Ah! - Ah!"

Brown swept his arm across the air. "Impossible! Everyone from our world knows Undertale doesn't exist as a game or any other medium in this multiverse! All our old favorites are lost forever. The fanfiction archives here are barren of Undertale content. Don't listen to this charlatan, Red! Whatever he's got in that chest, my supply far surpasses his."

Red bowed his head, contemplating. "...it does seem too good to be true. Our archive does not exist here, and for you to claim-"

"I hand wrote them." All were stunned into silence. Cter continued. "Back in my world I copied every chapter, every mini-series, _every_ story onto a flash drive. I had it in my sweatshirt pocket when Gaster pulled me in. I didn't have time to do anything with it because of...well, you know. All the crazy shit that went down with Chara, and, Error and whatnot. But things have been peaceful for me these past couple years, and I've not been idle. I still have the flash-drive, but for you, Red?...I know you prefer hard copies and print over clouds and software.

"But that collection was enormous!" Red cried out, rushing forward to grip Cter by the shoulders, shaking him roughly. "Have you lost all sense? Are you mad!? You could have died, man!"

Cter looked off towards the horizon wistfully, a gentle breeze fluttering the cords of his sweatshirt. "Heh, if that was the risk, than I would have gladly given my life."

"You fool!" Red raised a fist, aiming for Cter's face, Cter smiling with his eyes closed in quiet acceptance. A shockwave of air disturbed loose trash and debris littered throughout the alleyway, Red's fist trembling inches from Cter's melancholy grin.

A single tear delicately traversed Red's cheek. Chuckling bitterly to himself, he muttered, "Heh...you damn fool." Red withdrew his fist. "And here, I considered _myself_ to be the 'The Absolute God of Hyper Smut.'"

Cter opened his eyes, giving Red a look of genuine respect. "You honor me." Cter removed his heel from the chest. "Any man who can produce a miracle such as ' _Double Heartache'_ deserves only the finest tribute a man can offer in exchange. I would add my **SOUL** if I could."

Red leaned down, laughing lightly, popping the chest clasps loose with a flick of his hands. "Don't celebrate yet. You've gotten my hopes up, Black. I hope for the sake of future transactions, you haven't toyed with our heart strings for the sake of some elaborate prank."

"With ' _Double Heartache'_ on the line?!" Cter was authentically affronted. "Never!" Some things in this world were too sacred for gags.

"Very well." Red Cter's hands hovered beneath the lip of the Inventory Box, the rest of the Cter's pushing and shoving against one another to get a glimpse at the lost city of Atlantis. Red took one last deep breath, gathering his courage before throwing the lid open. Everyone closed their eyes as if a bomb might go off, or just in case there was a curse like from Raiders of the Lost Ark: the one where all the Nazi's faces melt off. Even Cter couldn't help wincing a little.

Eventually they opened their eyes, staring blankly. Cter fidgeted, noting their reactions. Something was wrong. Red Cter reached a hand into the box, his hand scooping up a pile of gray ash, and soot, and burnt edges of papers... It trickled from his hand like the sand from an hourglass, before he slumped down on hands and knees, like a man who is lost. "Why…?" Red looked up pleadingly at Cter.

Cter was silent. Pale-faced, he surveyed the remnants of the fruit of his labors. His trump card...his ace in the hole, his Golden Fleece, his Fountain of Youth, his Seven Labors… _gone._

"I was wrong." Red trembled, slamming the lid shut. "You are no god! You are not even a man! You are…a DEMON!" Red flung himself across the chest, the other Cter's piling on, throwing Cter against the wall. Pens clicked with murderous intent, and Cter cried out in despair.

"Alas! My brosephs! Hear me! It is not as it seems! Treachery may run afoul! But it is not I who is the perpetrator!"

Red snarled, pen drawn against Cter's throat. "You were the Chosen one! You were supposed to bring balance to The Smut! Not leave it in darkness! You were my brother, Black...I...I loved you." Red hung his head, heart consumed with grief.

"Red, you must believe me! I would never-"

"Than who?! Who other than you would have access? Who other than a demon would do such a thing?!"

"Wait!" Blue cried out, sifting through the pile of ashes. There's a journal that isn't burnt. And it's still legible. Pretty good condition too. Almost like it was placed in afterwards..."

"A confession, eh? C'mon then man, spill it! What does it say?" said Yellow, the head of his pen dangerously close to Cter's family jewels.

"Umm, okay," said Blue Cter, "it says...ahem:

' _Entry 17: Dark, Darker, yet Darker...?'_ Blue's eyes narrowed. all of the Cter's looking kind of creeped out, Black gulping nervously. Blue pressed on. ' _Photon readings negative... This next experiment seems very, very interesting.'_

"W-what the..?" Red asked, confusion written on his face.

`"It's written in a red crusty ink," said Blue Cter, eyes somewhat wide.

"Well, check if there's more!" Yellow snapped, causing Blue to jump.

Black frowned. All of this was triggering a sharp feeling of _deja vu._

"Alright, alright! Calm down!" Blue flipped the page, his eyes narrowing.

"What does it say?" Brown jumped up and down eagerly.

' _Ha! Gotcha, you dirty shipping scum bags! Did you clowns really think I'd overlook your pathetic gathering? Me and the others have borne this humiliation silently for too long. Good effort, but you were never gonna keep this a secret from ME, Cter. Next time, try a little harder, or better yet, if you know what's good for you…_

 _you'll stop ditching me whenever we come to Omega for your circle jerk council, meet me outside the alley way you're squatting in,_ _ **and get the HELL back home where you belong.**_ _Signed, =)'_

Cter was let loose. Blue rubbed the back of his head. Yellow, sweat nervously. Reds features were shrouded in darkness. Brown was eyeing the dumpster like he wanted to dive into it. Cter asked, swallowing the lump in his throat, "Is there anything else in the box?"

Blue Cter dug a little deeper, pulling out wads of crumpled paper, unfolding them. "Its full of drawings of severed middle fingers."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Red looked at Cter pityingly before addressing the others. "A moment for our fallen comrade." Each bowed their heads silently. This was then followed by a resounding _wuh-PSSSH,_ the four doppelgangers miming a collective whiplash with their arms.

Cter rolled his eyes, "Okay, okay. I get it. I got wrecked." _Heh...damn. I really have rubbed off on you._ Even Cter had to admit, as far as getting whipped was concerned, he wasn't just taking home the bronze medal. No... as he stared at Chara's expression at the end of the alleyway, their lithe figure leaning against the wall, deftly flipping and catching their army knife, Cter knew he'd struck gold.

* * *

 _HORROR_

The wind was howling. In the center of Snowdin, a raised platform of wooden planks had been erected. Beneath its rotted, warped steps, a single file procession of drawn, hopeless faces, shambled towards their doom. These were flanked on either side by ranks of armed and armored lupine, canine, and ursine soldiers, the lot of which snarled fiercely at any prisoner glancing in a direction that wasn't the frost at their manacled feet. The captives marched despondently to the rough barking commands of a Greater Dog shouting, "Next!"

Awaiting the convicted was a pair of canines, wielding half-moon battle axes, their faces shrouded by black executioner masks resembling the jackal features of an underworld deity. It seemed appropriate for Undyne, Queen of Horrortale, to garb her headsman in such a manner. After all, this was the Underground, the hades in which the vile humans above had condemned Monsters for all eternity.

Undyne swept her cold, unfeeling eye over the line of offenders, and the mob that had gathered to witness their demise. Her puffed, royal collar rose above her head like the hood of a cobra, upside down multi-colored heart-souls decorating its white background. Jagged spikes bristled menacingly from the gun-metal gray exterior of the queen's battle regalia. She raised an oppressive looking gauntlet to give the thumbs down sign, signalling her decree to the muted dismay of prisoners, and wary anticipation of onlookers.

A smokestack plume billowed from where Charred Grillby leered distastefully at the proceedings from the eaves of his restaurant. Beneath him, a nailed sign covered the door to 'Grillby's' with black letters signing: **OUT OF BUSINESS**.

For Undyne, these public demonstrations were becoming much too frequent. Her subjects were growing restless. More...ravenous. One could see it in the mottled fur and drooping ears of the Lapines, their rabbit incisors chipped and yellowed, eyes bloodshot from fear and hunger. It could be seen in the sputtering cinder that was the fire-elemental Grillby, his form mostly blackened and tar-like, smoldering like a polluted ember, dirty smoke trailing in his wake. It could be seen in the predatory circling of the Snow Drakes above, gliding through the chilly night on un-preened feathers, their hooked beaks parting to screech impatiently for the magic remains of the deceased.

It could be seen in the healthy, confident strides of the bipedal figure, strutting between the congested crowd, surveying the event with an air of supreme ownership, form concealed by a green cloak, its deep cowl blackening their features…

 _Wait! Who was that?_ But before Undyne could determine their identity, or order her men to seize them for questioning, the enigma disappeared between the alleyway of two buildings. She considered ordering a pair of soldiers to pursue it, but thought better of it. It was probably nothing, and the guard needed to remain in position. No point in jumping at shadows. Still...there was something off about their presence. The Underground was a small place. Undyne knew her subjects like the back of her hand. She was confident she could recognize anyone, even if they were swaddled in the thickest of coverings. She knew of no Monster in the Underground who displayed such arrogance. Displayed? No…. _Radiated_ it in quite the same way that individual did. One did not stride boldly in Horrortale. You crawled, or snuck, or clung to shadows. Well, there was _one_ Monster, other than her, but they were keeping her company in her tower. And a Queen can't expect to be a proper one without a Fool to accompany them.

"Hello, my cosmetic nightmares! Tonights forecast is overcast! With a slight chance of Dust showers, courtesy of our naughty _naughty_ ne'er-do-wells! Death coverage of this event, brought to you by none other than the magnanimous, the magnificent, the maleficent - everyone's favorite, fabulous, family-friendly pyramid head...Mettaton! At the proclamation of "Mettaton," a loud clap track boomed throughout Snowdin square, supplementing the lack of actual applause.

Undyne groaned in irritation at the robots suffocating flamboyance, face-palming herself. This was a public execution. Not a damn cooking show!

The riveted triangular prism that was Mettaton, waved its scissor-like, rust-stained, hands in the air. "Ah, but how rude of me! Who would forget to introduce our beloved and most supreme of matriarchs: Undyne, the Undisputed! Tell us my liege, " he approached Undyne on spidery, mechanical legs, a mic popping from a hidden compartment in his chassis. "What thoughts plague your benevolence at this most dreadful of hours?"

"Dreadful, Mettaton?" She glanced inquisitively, causing Mettaton to skitter backwards nervously. "There is nothing dreadful about bringing justice to those who deserve it!" said Undyne. "I would say this is a _glorious_ hour, showcasing the efficiency of my...OUR rule of law, and the effectiveness with which it will deter further criminal activities that threaten our well-being." An ear piercing shriek cut off Undyne's next sentence.

Swooping from above, a murder of Snow Drakes descended to peck at the remains of an Aaron who'd been drawn and quartered, his body already vaporizing into dust.

A squadron of Royal Guards paced the rooftops, stones and arrows notched to bowstrings and leather pouches, ready to loose them upon the Drakes that feasted on the magic residue.

Undyne roared, spittle flying from her mouth. Knocking Mettaton roughly aside, she leaned from the edge of the watchtower, screaming, "Slay those dirty vultures! No one gets extra rations without MY permission!"

The guards captain - a large polar bear - bowed stiffly before raising his fist. His soldiers responded to the signal, unleashing arrows, stones, and whatever ranged magic they possessed. The family of scavengers screeched in irritation, then in blind agony as the missiles made their mark. Several of the Snow Drakes exploded into motes of Dust instantly. The survivors abandoned the Aaron in the snow, fleeing as swiftly as they could to look for safer pickings elsewhere.

Cannibalism was illegal now, but such rulings were needed. Callousness against right and privilege was merely a daily occurrence resulting from the everyday scarcity. And things were nothing if not scarce: food, utilities, morale...sanity.

Yes, things seemed desperate, but Undyne was confident that once the necessary examples were judged and displayed before the public, fear and respect for the law would take precedence over disorder and malcontent. Her rule would remain secure, no matter the cost.

Undyne's attention returned to the gallows. There, a row of kneeling captives was locked in stockades, burlap sacks concealed beneath the wooden planks, ready to store the Dust of their remains. Nearby, telephone poles and tree limbs moaned from the weight of their burdens; passels of Dust sacks suspended from their boughs. These swayed listlessly in the howling, frost-bitten air, their threading stitched by stark red characters with proclamations against the accused ranging from: "THIEF!" to "TRAITOR!","CONSPIRATOR!","COWARDICE!", "INEPTITUDE!" and any other libel a state could malign its subjects with.

A rabbit family quivered in fear as several Royal Guards, encased in massive suits of armor, apprehended the Monster bunnies from the line. Doggamy and Dogaressa, her loyal headsman, approached the pair that wept and shivered in their bindings, Doggamy kneeled close to one of their faces. His blackened gums rolled back to reveal rows of serrated fangs, a guttural sound rumbling deep in his throat, while Dogaressa whet the edge of her axe behind the bunnies with slow, even strokes for the benefit of their sensitive ears.

 _Sheeeeek!..._

 _...Sheeek!..._

 _...sheeek!..._

One of the rabbits cried out, tears streaming down her face, panic nearly crushing her tinny voice. "Please! Your majesty! We were starving!"

Undyne rose at this, her eye gleaming dangerously. "And what of it? Those without the stomach or ability to fight for our cause don't deserve extra rations! And last I heard, stealing is a capital offense, punishable by _death_! Traitors and cowards don't deserve mercy, and neither do thieves!" Undyne turned to sit back down. She waved a dismissive hand, appearing to be bored. "Off with their heads."

"No! It's not our fault. It's not our fault! This is your fault! You failed us! YOU FAIL"- _Thunk!_ Doggaressa's ax bit deep into a pile of Dust where once, a Monster had breathed its last. Doggamy pulled a lever, dumping the pile into the sack below, where it was knotted and hauled off by teams of shivering undertakers. The crowd stared, hollow-eyed and forlorn.

" _There!"_ thought Undyne. One less hungry mouth to feed. With that, fear would settle once more. Order would be restored. That should be the last of any mutinous outbursts for the day-

"Tyrant!" a voice rang out suddenly. Monsters shuffled in surprise at the outcry, murmuring to themselves. In the distance, Grillby leaned forward, eyes narrowing at the disturbance.

Undyne stiffened. Did she hear that correctly? The queen whirled around so fast she knocked Mettaton from the wooden tower, his pipelike arms flailing rapidly, crying "Oh my…" right before the tip of his triangular head pierced the ground, submerging him completely in a blanket of snow.

"Who said that!?" Undyne raised her voice, bellowing with fury. "The law is the law, and whoever disobeys the law will face its wrath!"

"Murderer!" It was the same voice, and it appeared to be coming from… a figure in the crowd, swaddled in a green cloak that flapped in the wind, pride rolling off of them in waves. Undyne could almost picture their smug expression.

" _Fool,"_ she thought _._ The queen flashed a predatory grin. Looks like her instincts were correct. She had been careless to let the stranger go without question. She would not make the same mistake again. "Captain Pol! Seize that mutinous punk! Yes, the one in the green cloak! Bring me their head on a spike. Once you're finished, scatter their Dust amongst the sewage of Waterfall!"

"Despot!"

Undyne gaped in disbelief. Another voice? But where!? This time the sound came from...another cloaked figure?! This one wearing a vivid orange cloak instead, positioned next to Monsters from Hotland.

"Incompetent!"

Undyne swiveled her head sharply, seeing a blue cloaked figure opposite the orange, this one in close proximity to Monsters hailing from Waterfall.

"Captain! Seize the Blue and Orange ones as well. Kill them on sight!"

The guards obeyed, trying to force their way through the crowd, but the Cloaks moved deftly, their lithe figures fluidly traversing the press of bodies much easier than Undyne's bulky, armored guards. A wave of energy possessed the crowd where none existed before. They didn't know what was going on, but all they could hear were voices rising in their midst shouting, "Down with the queen!", "To hell with rations!", "Screw the Royal Guard!", "Liberty or Death!" Like whac-a-moles, the cloaked figures evaded their pursuers, appearing and disappearing at different points in the crowd, shouting their declarations, giving voice and energy to the gathered Monsters, whose murmurs steadily crested into waves of dissent. Before Undyne knew it, the Monsters, her subjects were...

A Pyrope in the crowd took up the chant with a burst of flame. "Failure!"

"Tyrant!" wiggled a Moldsmol aggressively.

"Where is the HUMAN?!" said Red Bird. "Why haven't you killed the HUMAN?!"

Monster Kid whipped his spiked tail back and forth, flames brewing behind dagger like teeth. "What happened to you Undyne? You're no hero! Not anymore!"

Other voices piled on top of each other till it became a deafening amalgamation of dissent. They cried:

"What happened to the surface invasion?"

"You idiot! There is no invasion. It was all a lie!"

"What haven't you used the **SOULS** to liberate us!?"

"I want to see the surface!"

"I want to see the stars!"

"What's a star? Can you kill it? Can you eat it?"

"Make Hotland hot again!"

"I want food!"

"Bring us food!"

"Screw the rations! Screw the curfews!"

"Down with the aristocracy!"

"All hail King Asgore!"

"No! Hail Queen Toriel, she never would have let this happen!"

"No, hail food!" At this last proclamation, all former queens, kings, and heroes gave way to Lord Food.

" _Food...Food...Food! Food! Food! Food! Food! Food! Food!"  
_

"Silence!" Queen Undyne perspired heavily, rows of magic spears crackling behind her. "Silence all of them! Guards! Strike them! Strike them down!"

Captain Pol looked up to his Queen, horrified. "A-All of them?"

"Kill as many as it takes! Restore order, Captain! Fulfill your duty, to your country and queen! Give the command, or I'll have _your_ head!"

 _['Seizure of Power,' by Marilyn Manson plays.]_

 _Ping!_

But before he could give such an order Captain Pol's white soul turned blue. He rose steadily in the air, body rigid as though frozen, teeth gritting in agony. Then, with a sound like glass shattering, the polar bear Captain's soul _folded_ in on itself from an incredible force. The Captain roared in agony, eyes rolling back into his head, body going limp before his massive bulk disintegrated into a waterfall of dust, bathing onlookers gray with his remains, armor smashing into the ground.

Undyne swallowed. A _soul grip_? But no Monster - not even Sans - was powerful enough to actually _crush_ a soul with that technique alone! He couldn't even use _soul grip_ anymore; Undyne had made sure of that. The queen glared at the newcomer. How many of these collaborators were there? This one was neither green, orange, or blue. They were...

A semi-circle formed around the intimidating profile of Captain Pol's murderer. Those nearby turned in silent awe towards the Gray Cloak...no not gray, whatever shade it might have been was buried beneath a thick coat of...Monster Dust? Monsters stepped back from the figure as one. Something about the being's aura instilled a 'fight or flight' response in all of them. Cyan bursts of magic appeared right where its left eye would be, its skeletal hand still raised towards the spot where Captain Pol had been suspended like a helpless child.

"Weak," they said, lowering their limb."That's hardly enough EXP to warrant the amount of effort I put into killing you." He sighed. "If that was the captain, than none of these pushovers are gonna be worth a damn either." He reached into his cloak, causing the nearby guards to flinch and whine involuntarily, gripping their weapons closer to their chests. It was not a weapon as they had feared. All the mysterious Monster produced was an orange bundle, unwrapping what appeared to be a human skull enveloped in a warm scarf. "What do you think..." he whispered into the skulls 'ear', a disturbing, plastic grin consuming his porcelain features. "...Papyrus?"

"You're getting ahead of yourself, 'Kira'. There's plenty of LOVE to go around," said the Green Cloak, leaping over him casually. They landed gracefully in the snow drift, the light of their cigarette smoldering rebelliously against the frozen night.

"What did I say, about calling me that? You wanna have a **mad time**?" said 'Kira', grip tightening on the skull, plastic grin receding.

"What did _I_ say about talking to your 'brother' in public here?" One could hardly miss the glacial tone in Green Cloaks voice. It was a tone that promised consequences. They closed on Kira, inches from his face, lightning bolts clashing where both pairs of eyes made contact. "It would be in your best interest, _Kira_ , that I not have to discipline you and the ax murderer again."

Kira tilted his head, sockets dimming. "Him? Heh... _he's_ useless." 'Kira' looked down at the human skull, tracing the contours of its eye sockets with his thumbs obsessively. "...and sentimental."

"..." Green Cloak puffed a cloud of smoke from their hood, the blazing stick of their cigarette stabbing the cold air. "Just stay on task," they said, grinding the cig into the snow with the heel of their shoe. "I won't warn you again."

Green spun on their heel, turning their back to Kira, who snickered quietly, giving Blue a meaningful look. Blue returned the look from his position in the crowd; their swollen, bloodshot eye pulsing with undisguised malice; the only discernible feature within their shroud. Orange, who had ascended to the rooftops, gave the impression of rolling her eyes at both of them. Green was all business. He scanned the crowd of Monsters. All eyes were on him, the mysterious being who was bold enough to stare down a Monster that could pulverize a soul just by thinking about it. They seemed to be waiting for something - waiting for _him_ \- to give them one last push. " _Heh, mob mentality at its finest."_ He reached a hand into the pile of Captain Pol's Dust, packing it tightly into a fist before letting it trickle from his hand like sand from an hourglass. Pointing at Undyne, he shouted, "SLAY THE QUEEN! OFF WITH _**HER**_ HEAD!"

Silence, at first. The crowd glared at the guards. The guard's glared back. Undyne glowered into the abyss of Greens hood'...it stared back. " _You hear that Undyne? That's the sound of the wind howling..."_

Mobs of Monsters surged forward.

Guards fired and slashed into the throng.

Blue embedded a throwing axe into Doggamy's forehead, Dogaressa howling in grief.

Undyne impaled scores of Monsters with her spears.

Kira tossed guards left and right, crumpling their bodies like paper balls.

Orange summoned columns of violet flames, singeing flesh and bone, ash and Dust.

Green lit a cigarette...

 ** _And all Hell Broke Loose._**

* * *

 _ **Oh no! Another sub-plot! Lets get the checklist. We have CterxChara shenanigans PredatorxJustice shenanigans, shit goin down in Underfell and now shits goin down in Horrortale? Shits getting real and we haven't even met Outsider yet. Ugh, can you say juggling? I can't help it. I always want to do so many different things with my stories. Here's hoping I can tie it all together. My plans are constantly evolving. Outlines, am I right?**_

 _ **p.S. I wouldn't hold my breath for that 'Double Heartache' novel. I'm not much of a tragic romance guy. Go bug Xwolf about it.**_

 _ **Review Questions:**_

 _ **1)What's your initial thoughts and reactions after reading this chapter?**_

 _ **2)What was your favorite moment(s) and why? What was your least favorite moment(s) and why?**_

 _ **3)What are your thoughts on the characters?**_

 _ **4)On a scale of 1-10 how much did you enjoy the chapter?**_

 _ **5)On a a scale of 1-10 how eager are you to read the next chapter?**_

 _ **6)Do you have any predictions?**_


	4. Chapter 4:If you knew what I did last

**Authors Note:**

 **I been productive fam. I been _real_ productive. 8600 words. Your welcome. One reason for that is: I've gotten into the swing of trying to type at least 1,000 words everyday. Here's hoping I can stay in the habit. The second reason is: I really, really, reallly want to get all these characters where they need to be, so I'm trying to get all this character development out of the way so you guys actually care about them when shit hits the fan. I'm super stoked for whats going to happen. I can't wait to get to the confrontations and encounters I want to show you guys. Give it two more chapters before one of the main antagonists rears their head. it'll be worth it the wait, trust me. I try not to succumb to instant gratification as much as I can. **

**Heads up for all you guys who actually listen to music while reading. So, in keeping with doubletale tradition I do include some music in certain scenes that I feel are appropriate. I usally indicate that a song is playing in brackets, for example: [song, by artist].**

 **I know it takes people out of the immersion by having to go and search for a song so I'll include the songs I use in the Authors note so you can go ahead and open a youtube tab or something to pull it up ahead of time. I only used two songs.**

[Bleach OST 4 track 4 Power to Strive] **and** [Respite, Undertale OST by Toby Fox] **in that precise order.**

 **Okay, that's it! Get reading and REVIEWING! Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta thank ma bitches.**

 **Shout out to Reviewers: Wingah, Spontaneously ARTISTIC!, IGuestAsMuch, MachUPB, Xwolf26, DiamondAuthor551, MadMalitianGamer, Doctah Sawbones, FluffySheeplion, and Raventalon.**

* * *

Chapter 4: If you knew what I did last summer,

why did you wait till now to murder me? That's just procrastinating, isn't it?

* * *

" _Lesser minds claim that the root of humanity's woes are derived from material things. Money... Weapons...Sex...but they are wrong. Evil does not reside in tools or talismans. It lurks in the hearts of Men..._

 _...and Monsters." -Outsider_

Underfell

They knelt over Sans' body, his skull perspiring fiercely, the sharp point of a knife inches from his magic eye. Sans knew what was happening, but he had neither the strength nor power left to do anything about it. And he was in _so._ Much. _Pain_...

"Cmon, Frisk!" Anarchy squealed into their ear excitedly, leaning over them. "Don't be a baby. Embrace the stab!"

"No!" Frisks hand shook, straining to keep that point from being buried into the skeletons socket. Anarchy's grip was a merciless vice on their hand, both of their appendages wrapped about the handle of the true knife. He could've forced Frisk to kill Sans at any time, but Anarchy wanted to savor this moment, and he wanted his new protege to savor it too.

Sans was carved up like a pumpkin, furrows dug deep into his bones like some sadistic form of scrimshaw. Most of it was centered around Sans' skull. Anarchy wanted to draw a frowny face, but it was kinda hard to be an artist when _someone_ kept bumping your pencil.

Frisk could hardly see through the sheen of tears, but they couldn't afford to wipe them. They needed both hands to keep that knife back. Their arms were on fire and their wrist was numb from loss of blood circulation. It was likely they'd be bruised and swollen before this nightmare was over. If it ever ended.

They closed their eyes, trying to keep their focus, sweat dripping off their chin to stain Sans' black jacket. "Someone will come," they thought frantically. "Somebody _has_ to come!"

 ***But nobody came.***

They felt the knife plunge, and Sans screamed. Frisk couldn't register which was louder in their ears, Anarchy's cackling or Sans' agony. They were sure both would haunt their dreams til the end of their days.

"Hahahahaaahahahahah! Open your eyes, Frisk!" they heard Anarchy crow. "Isn't it everything you ever dreamed it would be?! Now you're the one who gets to have a GREAT TIME! How's it feel bone head?" he smiled, addressing Sans. "To be weak! To be HELPLESS! Ahahahahahahaha!"

Not surprisingly, Sans couldn't answer him as Anarchy proceeded to force Frisk to saw around the circumference of Sans' socket like a carpenter. The Monster writhed like a worm beneath them, twitching fiercely, the rattling of his bones knocking against the tiles echoed up and down the corridor, body held down by metal shackles summoned by Anarchy's stolen magic.

Anarchy stood up and smirked, tossing his shimmering prize in the air before deftly catching it. "One Magic Eye for the photo album!" Anarchy appraised it like a jeweler gripping a ruby, winking one eye closed as he examined it, squinting through the circle of his thumb and index finger. "Hmm..." he mused in a gentlemanly voice, "yes...yes…very good craftsmanship. The luster is of excellent quality!"

He left Frisk where they lay, sobbing on the floor, crying: "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...," over and over again.

Anarchy flattened his hand and swiped it through the air, causing a tear in the code. Zero's and one's flickered rapidly within the floating seam in space time. He twiddled his fingers eagerly before reaching in to pull out a camera phone from his dimensional box. Anarchy's tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth in concentration as he shuffled through what sounded like a pile of scrap. His eyes lit up as he grasped the item he was looking for.

"Here!" he chirped, tossing the phone at Frisk, the device clattering as it bounced and slid across to them.

Anarchy descended to the floor, _rolling_ over to frisk like a man does when they're on fire. When he bumped up next to them, he posed, leaning on his side, cheek perched in his left palm, elbow supporting his weight, legs crossed over each other.

"Shoot me like one of your French girls," Anarchy said with his best breathy seductress impersonation, batting his eyelashes for good measure.

Frisk wasn't paying attention. They were trembling violently on the ground. They tried to sit up, eyes falling over Sans' battered form. His gold tooth had been ripped from his mouth, and lay dimly glinting on the floor. The black jacket was lacerated and torn, cotton poking out of it like the entrails of a bloated corpse. Anarchy's 'tattoos' were engraved all over Sans' face, hands, and feet. When their gaze settled to the blackened empty left socket, red liquid seeping from the hole, Frisk emptied their stomach onto the floor. " _Blergh! Agh! Cough! Cough!"_

"Woah there, buddy!" Anarchy sat up, cross legged. His albino features scrunched up, sticking his tongue out, "Yuck!" He sighed impatiently, rolling his eyes. "Gosh...you really are a trauma virgin, aren't cha?"

Frisk shook their head. "No...I'm just…" They wiped their mouth, breathing heavily. "Not an evil bastard...like you.." They glared hatefully at Anarchy beneath the fringe of their bangs.

Anarchy frowned. "Evil? I'm not evil. It's the _world_ that's evil. I'm simply a product of my environment. Just like him," he pointed at Sans. "Just like everybody here...except" he scratched his head "...you." Anarchy gave Frisk a considering look. "I just don't get you at all."

He crawled over to Frisk, careful to mind the slippery pool of vomit nearby. "How can you still sit there and preach pacifism, knowing what these guys have done to you? Aren't you mad? Don't you wanna pay em back tenfold?!" The teen gripped their shoulders, leaning in close, Frisks eyes widening in terror. "Don't you wanna give it to em like they gave it to you? Only you can do them one better because you have _power_! You can kill them over and over again! Keep them trapped in an eternal cycle of fear and death. And it's not like they don't deserve it either! We could be best friends you and I. Watch the world _burn_ together. Two of a kind! Always havin fun. Always pal'n around. C'mon buddy," he closed his eyes, "won't you be my," they shot open, bloodshot and veiny, " **Geno!Frisk**?"

Frisks breath hitched, pulse thudding in their ears, veins flooded with ice cold fear. "NO!" they plunged the knife into Anarchy's heart, blood gurgling in the teenagers mouth. Anarchy's eyes clouded, the magic steel shackles dissipated, releasing Sans with the death of their master.

Frisk shoved his body backwards, crushed the phone beneath their heel, grabbed Sans' eye and gold tooth from the floor, pocketed both and raced for the skeleton. They lifted him from the floor, carrying him piggy back style. Sans wasn't heavy, being only bones and around the same height as them, but Frisk was still weak and scared. They ran from the hall with Sans' body slack and loose upon their back.

As their pounding footsteps receded down the hallway and echoed down the stairs, a red flash enveloped the hallway; Anarchy's dirty, mud caked boot slamming against the ground.

"Awww man. Rejected!" Anarchy snapped his fingers. "But…" he stroked his chin consideringly. "This is kind of fun." He whistled a ' _Kill Bill_ ' tune, hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts, thumbs hooked into the waistline, strolling casually after his prey.

"Hide and seek is it?" Anarchy tutted sorrowfully. "Well buddy, I gotta say, I'm not a fan. So you better find a good place to hide and count to ten, because when I find you? ...well you better hope I find you...that is," His left eye flared red. His right flared white. Anarchy's face split into two halves by a psychotic grin, six elemental wings sprouting behind him like savage spikes. " **Before I get mad**."

 _*Act: Check_

 _*Frisk / Atk: 1 / Def: 1_

 _*Lvl:1 HP: 10/20_

 _*The martyr. The pacifist._

 _*What's their deal?_

 _*Don't they know that in this world, it's kill or be killed?_

 _*They'll learn...uncle Anarchy 'll show em! Ahahaahahaha!_

* * *

 _Justice_

 _She's crazy. My boss is a nut! A class_ A _lunatic!_ Clover careened through the chilly atmosphere, doing his level best to keep his hat attached to his body. Maybe in hindsight he'd stop to consider how silly it was to be so concerned over something like losing your hat when - oh, he didn't know - you're free falling to your death!

Predator folded her arms to her side to catch up to him, waving at him casually, wind whipping her cloak behind her like superman, her long ebony hair tied back into a ponytail. Justice was about to open his mouth to giver her a good tongue lashing, when he noticed her ice wings had sprouted from her back.

"Oh thank heavens! She's gonna stop this madness and take us home," he thought.

Her scythe appeared into her hand with a blue flash.

 _Umm…_

Predator flapped towards him like a speeding bullet, both hands gripping the shaft, arms pulled back to deliver a sweeping cut across his torso.

 _Sweet roller!_ In a split second, Clover summoned his yellow **SOUL** , drawing his revolver at lightning speed. Six bullets of yellow **DETERMINATION** detached themselves from his **SOUL** , loading themselves into the chamber of his pistol. He took aim, firing point blank at the blade that nearly cut him in half. Predator was thrown back by the blast, scythe spinning through the air to be lost in the clouds.

He hollered at her above the banshee wail of the wind, mad as all hell, "What the hell are you doing!? Are you _trying_ to kill me!?"

Predator shrugged upside down, sticking her tongue at him childishly before swiping at him with one of her wings. The blow caught him across the face. Clover somersaulted three times from the hit. Somehow he still managed to keep one hand on his hat and the other to his pistol.

"Cut it out!" Clover's eyes narrowed sharply, a purple bruise rising like bread in an oven on his left cheek. "Before I git mad." His fingers twitched, eager to teach er' a lesson.

Predator wiggled her fingers at him, mouthing what he could only guess was, "Oooh I'm soooo scared" before she folded her wings, diving straight into him with both of her fists. Clover caught the blow right in the gut, his breath escaping his body, but he had fought enough times to automatically exhale so he wouldn't be crippled by it. But it still hurt like a sonuvabitch, and this time Clover lost his grip on his cowboy hat. He watched in horror as it floated off into the overcast sky, the teenager accelerating at a much faster rate than his wide brimmed hat due to its surface area.

 _Shit!_

Clover was shocked when he discovered his boss had disappeared as well. He ground his teeth violently as he spied the earth approaching him. _So that's it then? I make one lil mistake and not only do I get the boot, I get the hatchet too?_ Clover squeezed his eyes closed, hands balling into fists, his brown pancho flapping loudly in his ears as the wind screeched at him.

" _Damn it, boy! Get me a drink! Yer useless bastard!" Clover recoiled, a fist rocketing into his cheek. He tumbled to the ground, the drunken stumblin figure of his dad rising over him._

" _Pa, I don't know where else to git em." Clover crawled backwards into the corner. He hated it when his old man got like this. He just wanted to help im. He jus' wanted to show im that he cared. "The only place we can afford it is the lil inn next to the slope of the mountai-" Clover's words were cut off as his father gripped him by the collar of his shirt, the drunken lout roaring into his face._

" _Don't you dare talk about dat mountain! Don't you dare go up it, nor down it! Boy! Ya hear me!? That mountain is cursed! You eva go up it again I'll tan yer hide red! Don't you listen ter me? Don't you know ter listen to yer old man!? Listen to em when he speaks, ya hear! You want dirt thrown on yer coffin like my sister, is that it?! You wanna lose your soul to the demons?!_

" _No dad" the boys chin quivered. "I promise. I won't do it again. It was jus' a mistake. Jus' one lil mistake. Dats all"_

" _One!? One's all it takes! I'll drill that in to you boy! I'll drill it into you good! I already lost a sister to that damn mountain. I'll be damned if I lose a son! C'mere!"_

Clover growled at the memory of his old life, before he fell into the Underground, before he tried to get justice for his pa; so he'd be proud of him for doin _somethin_ right at least. But it looked like in the end, he couldn't make anyone proud. Not his dad. Not the Underground. Hell, not even his boss. So what good was he then? Booted out and left to die? It wasn't fair. He jus' wanted to help. It jus' wasn't…. **JUST**.

Clover flipped over, the sun blinding his eye's for a moment. Then he saw her...his former boss, staring down at him, sunlight glinting off her frozen wings, his hat perched on her head, tilting it down at him, a mocking grin on her face.

Seeing his most prized possession looted from him was all it took.

 _Okay you little harlot. That's how you wanna play? Fine_. Clover swiped his hand into the air, plunging it into the code, the sky appearing to unzip as he fell, one limb stuck in a dimension of zero's and one's. Inside this dimension, Clover frantically searched for his armament before the ground reached up to smash him. He gripped an ammo belt packed with multicolored magazines, each a different heart **SOUL** color. He reached out to his **SOUL,** summoning his **INPUTS** : **FIGHT** , **ACT** , **ITEM** , and **MERCY**.

* _Act: You call for help. The blue SOUL munition responds to your plight._

Yellow rounds of **JUSTICE** eject from the cylinder of Clovers Pistol, returning to his **SOUL** , the guns empty slots rapidly replaced by blue rounds.

 _Well...here goes nothin_. Clover pressed the muzzle straight into his chest, firing point blank into his **SOUL** six times.

[ _Bleach OST 4 Track 4 Power to Strive]_

 _Ping!_ The hue of Clover's **SOUL** morphed from a golden yellow to an indigo blue. Clover straightened his body like a needle, aligning his head to the ground as best he could. If he hadn't, the whiplash would have killed him just as well as the ground would've. There was zero inertia; no lag time or deceleration. Clover's direction of gravity flipped a complete one hundred and eighty degrees, his blue **SOUL** rocketing him away from the earth as though the planet were rejecting him.

That was fine by Clover. He was used to rejection, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna take it sitting down anymore. He reloaded his pistol with **JUSTICE** rounds. His left eye blazed yellow fire, its crosshair shaped iris locking onto his boss. Well...his _former_ boss.

"Sorry madam" he smirked "but I'm the one who does the firin." The hammer came down on his revolver.

 _Powpowpowpowpowpow!_

Predator squinted, her eyes widening as yellow tracers shattered the joints and weak points in her frost wings with expert precision. Now _she_ was the one plummeting towards the ground, or rather, straight into the heel of Clover's boot.

"Gah!" Predator's eyes widened, the force of her descent combined with Clover's ascent winding her completely. They shot skyward and kept going, Clover's indigo **SOUL** driving them towards the stratosphere. Maybe he went a bit overkill with six rounds of **INTEGRITY?** Eh... hindsight was twenty twenty.

Justice snarled. "How do yer like dem apples!?" Predator wiped a smear of blood from her mouth, one hand locked around his ankle, looking straight into his eyes.

His own eyes widened. Was she... _grinning_ at him? Then Clover noticed she was no longer wearing his hat. He looked forlornly off into the distance. He might have missed the tiny brown speck were it not for the hawk eye vision his left eye granted him. Predator was going to have to wait.

But Predator followed his line of sight, a shit eating crocodile smile enveloping her stupid face. The hallmark mischievous glint lighting up her baby blue eyes.

Clover didn't like that look at all. "Don't even think about it you sonuvabitch!"

Predator did more than think about it. She flung herself away from Clover, summoned her frozen wings and dived after the hat once more. Clover swore, frantically summoning more **SOUL** munitions. He needed to water this **INTEGRITY** down some, otherwise, he was gonna be the cow _BOY_ that jumped over the moon.

Clover loaded a green slug of **KINDNESS** , two slugs of violet **PERSEVERANCE** , and the last three empty slots with gold-yellow **JUSTICE.** He took aim at his **SOUL** once more, firing the first three into his pulsing indigo heart. The green slug healed his bruised face, and the violet rounds would come in handy if Pred got too close for comfort. But more importantly, he reduced the **INTEGRITY**. Clover continued to rise, but he could feel that was simply due to his previous inertia. Now that his gravitational influence was equal to that of someone floating in the vacuum of space, he just needed to alter his direction. He swiped his hand through the air, hacking the code to search his dimensional inventory, pulling out a jetpack.

 _Knew the bounty from Outertale would come in handy._ He strapped the advanced looking backpack to his shoulders, and immediately began flipping buttons and switches. An orange holographic console materialized over his arms. Clover proceeded to plug in command prompts and inputs into the holographic.

A robotic voice responded to the inputs: ' _Activating atmospheric navigation protocol.'_

Swept wings sprouted from the sides of the jet pack, and blue fire jettisoned from the exhaust ports. Clover took off like a rocket, homing in on his hat, closing the distance between him and Predator rapidly.

He took aim, lining up his sights, aided by the crosshair of his left eye.

Predator felt goosebumps crawl up her arm, but she was pretty sure it wasn't due to the altitude. Something was homing in on her with killing intent, and she had a good idea of who it was. Her instincts were sound. Flipping over on her back, she spied Clover speeding towards her like a bat out of hell.

"Oh..." she whistled. "I totally forgot we had those." Predator flipped back over, going back for the hat, hand outstretched, fingers an inch or two from grasping the brim. "Can't lose this baby," she thought "otherwise, he really isn't going to forgive me for this." Then again…

Yellow tracers and explosions once more sheared through her ice wings, and Predator windmilled violently, disappearing into the clouds. When she emerged, drenched in cloud vapor, she saw her second in command levitating stationary in midair, cowboy hat knotted securely to his scalp, revolver pointing dead at her.

Crosshairs suddenly sprouted all around her, blocking all avenues of escape. "Go ahead," said Clover. "By all means. Dodge." He tilted his hat up, left eye igniting furiously into a tower of yellow flame. " _ **I like movin targets."**_

...Then again, it might be a little too late for forgiveness.

* * *

 _Omega_

Cter flinched as Yellow Cter tried but failed to escape, the inventory chest clocking him behind the head, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground . Yellow cried out for mercy as a hand grasped his ankle, slowly dragging him back into the alley, nails scraping into the ground as a red smiley face pulled him back into the shadows. "No! Black! Saaaave meeeeeeee!" The noises and rattling coming from inside the alley sounded brutal to say the least. Cter leaned against the exit of the alley way trying to ignore the grunts, and moans that sounded uncomfortably like him, (because they literally are me, duh). Chara was really going to town. He coulda ditched them again, but uh…

" _If you try to escape again, the next time we see each other, I'll cut off your balls, you got that?" =)_

Cter yawned. He _waaas_ getting a little sleepy…maybe going home wasn't such a bad idea?

Red was the next to fall out into the street, clutching his side. He had a look of despair on his face, but was otherwise unharmed. Mostly.

Cter arched a brow at him. "You look like you got off pretty easily. Why the long face?"

Red Cter responded, but he sounded as though he wasn't all there. " _Sniffle_...my masterpiece... _DoubleHeartache_..they...confiscated it. Now who's going to appreciate it?"

Cter winced. Knowing Chara, _DoubleHeartache_ was probably being acquainted with a lighter and a can of Ax body spray right now. Cter thought he could smell burning. In fact, Chara had made a bonfire out of the tribute pile, the remains of the cult sin smoldering into gray ashe. The other Cter's had tried to stop them at first, but he could still smell the ashes of their defeat even from here. Literally and figuratively. Brown and Blue had already stumbled home with bruises and black eyes. Ink and broken pens littered the alleyway, as well as a few beat blaster scorch marks. Yellow had yet to reappear. He never did, ominously enough, and only Chara was the one who emerged from the darkness, an oddly satisfied look on their face. "That felt good," they said, voice brimming with delight.

Cter winked at them. "Sounded like you were getting pretty intimate with me in there. Never thought you'd try to fulfill your fantasy with sloppy seconds, but since you can't have the real deal I guess it's the best you can hope for."

Chara growled at them. "Shut your whore mouth. And YOU!" They pointed at Red Cter with the tip of their vicious looking army knife, Red sweating nervously, "I don't wanna see your face ever again. If you tell anyone, there'll be hell to pay!"

Red Cter nodded once and beat a hasty retreat, when he was a safe distance he muttered quietly under his breath: "What the hell, I thought it was just the Apex Hacker who was the monster. Is _everyone_ from his timeline that freakishly strong?"

Chara frowned after Red, the initial glow in their features receding. "It's just weird," they said, lowering their blade.

Cter looked at them curiously, strutting up to Chara with his hands in his pockets. "What is?"

"You know," Chara didn't seem too eager to answer all of a sudden "It's just...it's not as satisfying beating 'you' up when the you's I'm fighting aren't anywhere near as...well…."

Cter beamed. "As what? Strong? Godlike?" He waggled his eyebrows at them. "Dashing? Coolio?"

Chara whirled on them, forehead pushing against his, teeth grinding together "Annoying! Immature! Retarded!"

Cter skipped backwards down the street, hands waving in the air, fingers folded into the 'peace out' sign. "You know you love me. Don't hide what's inside."

They didn't respond the way Cter predicted however. Chara simply stared at him with an unreadable expression. "Challenging…" they added. There wasn't a trace of sarcasm to be heard.

Cter halted mid skip lowering his arms. "Oh." He blinked, rubbing the back of his head. _Did I seriously get a compliment out of that? Uh...neat?_

"Which is why I can't understand," Chara clenched their fist, head lowered towards the ground, "why we're not doing anything about Anarchy."

"Oh." Cter said again. A few noteworthy seconds of silence before Cter shrugged, tilting his chin towards the sky. "Not really feelin the whole merc gig is all."

"That's not what I'm talking about!" Chara yelled, causing Cter 's eyes to widen.

Cter sighed deeply. "Yeah...I guess I already knew that. Well, to put it simply I don't think I _should_ go and fight Anarchy. Freelance or no."

This answer didn't seem to appease Chara in the slightest. If anything, it made them all the more incredulous. "What?! Why not? Cter, did you not hear C? This is _Anarchy_ we're talking about. Or at the very least, another version of him. Are we just gonna let him rampage across the multiverse till he becomes powerful enough to threaten our home?"

"That's not gonna happen," Cter answered matter of factly.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Predator and her team can handle it." He shrugged. "I trust them."

Chara wasn't convinced. "Bullshit! They already ran into this Anarchy once before, and barely made it out alive! One of them _didn't,_ Cter. Who knows how strong he's gotten since then? How many other Monsters and human magic do you think he's stolen?"

"Dunno. Not like it matters to me."

"Well, it should."

"Well, it _doesn't_."

Chara gaped, unable to believe what they were hearing. "Whats with you, Cter? I would think you of all people would be jumping at the opportunity to put another Anarchy down.

Cter's eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance. Why were they being so adamant about this? "It's none of our concern," was all he said.

"It isn't?" They asked challengingly. "What about Predator? What if something happens to her?"

Cter folded his hands into fists, feeling a burning throb in his temples. "She knows the risks, Chara." His voice strained to keep even. "She puts her life on the line every day fighting scum like Anarchy and then some. They don't need me to babysit them. Predator is strong and her team is nothing to sneeze at either." Look, can we just...drop this? I don't know where all of this is coming from, Chara. This isn't like you either, you know. When did you become so gung ho about 'fighting the good fight'? Did Predators propaganda slogans strike a chord with you or something?"

Chara either failed to notice or didn't care about Cter's sudden mood swing. "Look, Cter, we can't just sit back and hope for someone else to fix the multiverse' problems for us. Remember when we had those nightmares about Character slaughtering everyone in their timeline? We could've acted sooner. We could've saved them, maybe even all of them, _if_ we'd taken the initiative. But we did nothing. Not until Character was almost too powerful for either of us to handle. We can't keep putting threats off like that when they present themselves to us. We can't just keep hoping you'll get a random cop-out powerup that gives you all the strength and **DETERMINATION** you need to defeat the bad guy. What if someone else shows up and destroys everything you and I fought so hard to protect? What if we ignore the signs we're given and it's too late to do anything about it when they eventually set their sights on _our_ universe? What if they kill everyone we -"

 _Enough!_

"And what if someone comes and kills them while I'm off playing hero!"Cter raised his voice, silencing Chara instantly. "Did you think about _that_ , Chara?! Who's gonna protect them while I'm not there? _You_?!" That was a mistake and Cter knew it soon as the idiot words spewed from his idiot mouth. Chara flinched, looking as though he had struck them physically, but Cter knew better. Chara could handle physical. It was the inside that cut them deepest. "Chara...wait, that wasn't what it sounded like."

"Oh, really?" Chara trembled with rage. "What was it supposed to sound like then? That I'm not strong enough? That we're all helpless good for nothings without 'Cter the All Mighty' there to wipe our asses when we get into trouble? Or did you mean that you couldn't trust _me_ personally?" Chara spun on their heel, storming off into the alley.

"Shit! Chara, come back!" Cter chased after them, gripping their shoulder to keep them in place. "You know that's not how things are between us. They haven't been for a very long time. Not since-"

"Not since that timeline Error sent us to, right?" Now it was Cter's turn to be silenced, the anger in Chara's voice replaced by notes of wistfulness. "That's what you were gonna say, wasn't it?" They looked at him over their shoulder, not facing him entirely, but not completely turned away either. "Heh, I remember it so clearly. You told me, that night after mom and dad's wedding, that that was the moment you knew you could spare me. That we could be...friends." Chara took a deep breath before turning their whole body to face him once more. "Is that what we are, Cter? Is that what we _still_ are?"

As Cter gazed into those ruby eyes, he wondered if Chara wasn't just looking for assurance, that he still trusted them. There was more to it. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was a deeper, hidden meaning behind it; like a question hidden within a question. " _Gaah! I'm way too frazzled right now to be dealing with this Inception B.S!"_ All things considered - and judging by Chara's expression - there was only one way Cter could patch things between them, and he was smart enough to realize that Chara wasn't actually looking for a 'yes' or 'no' answer this time. He wasn't gonna like it, but whether Chara believed it or not, they _were_ worth it, more than they could ever know. Only one way to get that across to them now though. He'd have to do something he was absolutely atrocious at. Something that scared the piss out of him more than facing armies of Error's, Anarchy's, Omega Flowey's and Character's roided on LOVE and possessed by a collective hard-on for EXP. He was going to have to be (shudder)... _honest_.

"All right, I'll tell you what's going on. Up here I mean. Like, my feelings n' stuff." His eyes swiveled briefly. "The...actual ones."

Chara stood stock-still, nearly dropping the knife they were holding in their left hand before the reflexes in their right rescued it from clattering to the ground, eyes never leaving Cter for a second. Their mouth gaped as though cursed by an incantation of sheer dumbfoundedness.

Cter rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Heh, well uh, that got your attention. Guess I'm still pretty good at surprising you then...ahem." _Shit, where's that army of jabroni's? Aaaany second now...please?_

"...Okay then. " Their hands gripped the collar of Cter's sweatshirt, fingers tightening into the cloth, face inches from his own. "Spill it!"

 _Doubleshit! (Don't make that AU...I mean it)_ Maybe this was a bad idea _._ "Oh, uhm, well." Cter backed off, stumbling slightly over a cardboard box, Chara keeping pace with him. "Feelings! Yeah! They're great, aren't they? Make you all mopey, and warm inside, n' stuff. Boy! Can't wait to share all of that! Get things off my chest. Break the ice. Have a catharsis."

"Cter…"

"What? I'm serious! Look, my butt is clenched and everything!"

Chara advanced on him, lowering their gaze, finger raised aggressively. "You're not getting cold feet now. Not If I have anything to say about it."

Cter threw up his hands in defeat. "Okay! Okay!" He sighed, scratching his cheek, avoiding Chara's penetrating glare. "Just...let me summon my **INPUTS**."

Chara blinked several times, shaking their head in disbelief. "Are you serious right now?! Why do you need **INPUTS** to tell the truth?!"

"Cause I suck big black Error balls at this!" said Cter desperately. (Don't ship that...I mean it). He raised his arms in a placating manner. "I'm sure the option is in my **ACT** box. I just need that little extra follow through." Cter glanced to the side once more, voice tinged with uncertainty. "C'mon buddy. Please? This isn't as easy for me as you think, alright?"

Chara frowned consideringly. "You sure about that?"

"Strong possibility…"

"Ugh!"Chara reached for the sky in frustration. "Fine! Hurry up then."

Cter saluted with gusto, pleased that Chara was willing to humor them. "Roger dodger!"

He proceeded to scroll through his menu, selecting, **ACT** , stroking an invisible beard as he perused his choices. _Okay, lets see…. 'tell a joke'...no… 'drop it like it's hot'...heh, love it, but no… 'flirt'...no... gotta be in here somewhere...Ah! 'Tell the truth'! There it is...wait._ Cter did a doubletake, rereading the text options. He was pretty sure that 'flirt' option had been an optical illusion. It was probably flatulate or something, or some other word that starts with _F_ and is followed by _L_. Flip off. Flame on. Float on….His heart skipped a beat after the quadruple take. No, that's definitely an _irt..._

"What's taking you so long?" Chara narrowed their eyes, trying to peek over Cter's shoulder at the options. "Just hit it already!"

 _* Yeah, why don't you 'hit that' already?_

 _* 'Flirt' has replaced 'drop it like it's hot'._

Cter jumped, turning around frantically, and grabbing Chara by their shoulders a bit rougher than was necessary, Chara widening their eyelids at him.

"Aaagh! Don't scare me like that, jahomie!" said Cter, sweat drops forming over his brow, heart thudding in his chest. Now why did he feel so uncomfortable being this close to their face? _Ah, wow, were their eyes always so_... _.ummm_...so _red_?

 _*Real smooth, actually would have sounded worse out loud than it did in your head._

Cter shifted his body, making sure as much of the text box was hidden as possible. "Ha..hahaha... Boy, you got me real good!" said Cter. "Especially back there in the alley. What with the prank n' all. But hey! I had it comin! After all the crap I've pulled on you...well," he shrugged, smiling thinly, "you had to get me sooner or later."

 _*Cter is changing the subject...Chara tilts their head, looking confused, but in a cute way._

 _Stop it!_

"Wowza! What a crummy juncture that turned out to be." He released his grip hurriedly. "F-for me anyway. Heh...hot for you though, friendo! Cter punched Chara's shoulder lightly in a _friendly_ manner. Because that's what _friends_ do. _Friends_ fist bump their _friends_ on the shoulder. Wait...hot? NO!

"NOT!" Cter quickly corrected himself, startling Chara into jumping back a little from the force of his volume. " _Not_ for you though!" Unnecessary tension flooded the horrible, all encompassing silence. Cter scratched the back of his head nervously, Chara just kind of...giving them this look. "You uh...really came out on top!" Cter finally managed.

 _*Came out on top, huh? Not a good word choice, friendo…_

 _*'Flirt' has replaced 'tell a joke'._

Cter was starting to panic. "And by that of course, I mean," Cter rolled his hand, "in a very non innuendo-ish way-"

 _*That's not a word…_

 _* 'Flirt' has fused with 'tell the truth', morphing into its final form: 'Don't hide what's inside'. There was a magical girl transformation and everything._

 _Christ almighty! "_ Friends!" Cter shouted randomly, holding out his hand, causing Chara to take a step back. "Friends friends friends! Isn't it great to be _Frrrieeeeeends_! ~" Cter vibratoed in a sing song voice, spreading his arms wide like a fat soprano opera singer.

Chara raised an eyebrow at them, wearing the epitome of an 'Ooooookay?' expression.

Cter sighed in relief. Distract and attack. It works everytime. _So there!_ He glared malevolently at the text box. _That oughta-_

 _*Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt_

 _Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt_

 _Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt_

 _Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt_

 _Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt Flirt, etc_

At this point Cter just wanted to fall to his knees and scream: " _What is my life!?"_

"Cter. Just...stop."

Cter blinked. Something in the tone of their voice triggering alarm bells.

"Look...I get it. You don't wanna talk about it. About anything. Like always..." Chara sighed with weary resignation. "I shoulda known. Can't believe I got my hopes up," they muttered quietly under their breath.

"Chara..." Cter reached out to them, "hey hold u-" Cter's sentence was disrupted by the force of Chara's shoulder colliding with his as they nudged their way past him, walking several paces ahead, not even waiting for Cter to catch up. Cter rubbed his shoulder, staring after them. _Yeah, definitely not a friend bump that time. And we all know whose fault that is._

"Are you coming home, or what?" Chara asked, sounding like for the first time that night they couldn't care less either way.

Cter couldn't bring himself to say anything, so he just let the muffled footfalls of his sneakers answer for him. It was good enough for Chara at any rate. Communication, apparently, was the most useless thing they could be doing right now. Or ever for that matter.

* * *

 _Underfell_

 _Just one more step_. Frisks mantra echoed through their mind. They made that excruciating step. Once they did, the prayer returned. _Okay, now make another_. One foot in front of the other. That was all they had to do. Nothing too complicated. Forget the body. Don't give in to temptation. Don't lie down. Don't give up. It's all just a state of mind. Just stay **DETERMINED**.

Sans groaned behind their ear. Frisk readjusted their grip the best they could. They could feel their fingers slipping and it wasn't just because their palms were slick with sweat. Sans' bones felt less solid, more like play-doh, and a sickening feeling settled in Frisks stomach when they realized their fingers were actually making impressions in his leg bones.

 _I need to find a place to hide. I need to heal Sans..._

Frisk bumped into a familiar wooden door. They grimaced in annoyance, the new stimulus awakening them from their aerobic trance. They recognized this house. It was New Home.

With an unsteady hand they jostled the copper door knob, pressed their weight against it, and collapsed to the carpeted floor with a dull _thud_! It was a testament to Frisks weariness that they barely registered the impact. Their fingers curled into the woolen rug. How nice it would be to fall asleep right here? Sans lay atop them, their fur lined jacket enveloping the child like a blanket. So warm...so soft…

The door swung lazily behind them, hinges squealing as it rocked back and forth. Frisks heart raced. It was too loud! _He'll_ find them! _Anarchy_ will find them! Close the door! Get up and close the goddamn door!

With a moan, Frisk pushed themselves from the ground, their wet noodle arms jiggling as if they had done a thousand pushups. That sharp spike of fear and adrenaline was all that fueled them enough to overcome exhaustion. With tired, sunken eyes, the fringe of their bowl cut sticking messily to their saturated skin, they gently rolled Sans off of them and trudged to the door, closing it behind them. Every cell in their body screamed at them to lock it, but that would be a dead giveaway they were hiding here, and it wouldn't have done any good. The only barrier that could keep someone as monstrously powerful as Anarchy at bay was 'The' Barrier. Unfortunately, Frisk wasn't on the other side of it; even though that had always been their goal, they could never hope to be THAT lucky.

Frisk glanced around the hallway. To the left was the living room leading towards the kitchen, and to the right was the bedrooms. In the middle was the staircase leading to the basement, a linked chain with a padlock barring the way forward. The child chuckled mirthlessly. Frisk wondered if the padlock was placed before the Monsters in Underfell became so ruthless. In this day and age, there was no way any of them would make a security system so laughably breachable. Forget the key, all Frisk had to do was roll under or jump over it. King Asgore's old sentimentality preserved New Homes timeless naivete, and his cruel reputation defended its sanctity. No one would dare vandalize this place without fear of reprisal. Except that was no longer the case. Anarchy could defile anything, and no one here was powerful enough to stop him. Not the royal guard. Not Asgore. Not even Sans.

Frisk squeezed their arms, clutching their body tightly, the only source of comfort they could draw now was from themselves. Flowey had abandoned them to their fate. Who knew where the dubious plant was now? Probably hiding. Waiting for Anarchy to get bored and hopefully leave. That's what Frisk ought to do. That was _all_ they could do. Hide. Cower. Wait for the end. Right?

They closed their eyes, trying once more to summon the **RESET** button. A **LOAD**. A **SAVE**. Anything that could give them some measure of control over the timeline again. Frisk clenched their teeth together, panic swelling in their chest. It wasn't working. Even after all those deaths Anarchy's **DETERMINATION** was too strong, and Frisks **SOUL** had already been weathered down by the cruel realities of Underfell; like a flint stone arrowhead exposed to the elements.

Damn it! What were they going to do? What _could_ they do? Running was out of the question. They wouldn't get far, but New Home wasn't promising either. Now that they thought about it, the house was basically a death trap. A sicko like Anarchy would only be attracted to the pristine property. So orderly. So civilized and welcoming. Unblemished. It was practically begging to be firebombed, and if Anarchy was telling the truth about there being multiple universes identical or similar to their own, then he probably knew Frisk's tendencies a lot better than the child was comfortable admitting. Tendencies such as: what Frisk would do...who they'd depend on...where would they flee for safety…The implications were terrifying to consider.

' _Cmon buddy...won't you be my..._ _ **GENO!FRISK**_ _?'_

Frisks clapped their hands to the sides of their head, desperately trying to banish the memory of those bloodshot eyes. "Oh no. Oh no. No no no no no!" This was a mistake. They shouldn't have come here. They should have gone _anywhere_ but here. Frisk peeked furtively out the window, breathing heavily. If Anarchy had wanted to he could've caught them instantly. This was just a game to him. A cruel house cat toying with his prey. Any second, Frisk expected to see the pasty, white-haired maniac prance down the street, waltz up to the front door and blow it from the hinges, dragging his quarry kicking and screaming from the house, only for Anarchy to give Frisk something to _really_ scream about. There was no one they could call for help. Call..

"My phone!" Frisks face lit up briefly with hope. _Alphys has to still be alive. I can call her! She has surveillance all over the underground. She can guide us to the evacuation zones. Warn us if Anarchy's nearby!_

"Okay." Frisk took a few shuddering breaths, pulling out their cell phone to scroll through the contacts. It didn't take them long since the numbers were ordered in alphabetical.

… _.ring…..ring…_

"C'mon, c'mon, _pleeease_ pickup!"

"Hello, this is Alphys speaking," came a nasally feminine voice.

"Alphys! Thank god! Please...you have to help us...it didn't work...Anarchy...he's too strong. Sans is dying and I don't know what to do."

"Okay, okay, calm down sweetie pie," said the overly feminine voice. "Tell me where you are exactly and I'll come…get... _snirk_... you...ah-haha….Hahahahahah! AHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAJHAHA! jcdnvszdkrhbgpaoerlkjgfdhgdfgkljrg ;sdfgjseitjgsuj'sjdfhgaserjgftsetg! Aaaahh fuckn-A, kid! I just couldn't help myself. Whaddup! Its Anarchy: the fother mucking two point o', _**BITCH**_ _!_ "

Frisks hands shook violently, the phone knocking against the side of their ear.

"Aaaaww. Were you lookin fo yo wil wizad frien?" Anarchy mocked childishly. "Well that's too bad! I already made a nice pair a' crocs outta her. Not to mention pillagin' this kickass new Iphone7. Shit nigs! Did I nail that product placement or what? Suck my dick Steve Jobs! Aaaaall riiiight!" Anarchy exhaled loudly. "...Aaaany who, maybe I'll show it to you when I curb stomp your scrawny little neck in?" The earpiece crackled with indistinct guttural insanity.

"Hehe...nah, I'm just kiddin. It won't be _that_ quick. But hey! There's always the option of bein' a man and killin' yourself! Come on, don't be nervous." Anarchy then spoke in a thick Japanese accent, "It's da way a' da samoorai." He laughed. Frisk swallowed lead. "What do Japs call ritual suicide again?...soup?...sepu?...sudoku?...agh! Screw it! I don't give a **** about it!"

The floor was swaying. Why was it so hard to breathe? It shouldn't be this hard to breathe…

Anarchy's chilling voice cooed at them through the speaker. "There's nowhere to run and hide, Frisky. Cause I'm comin to kill you **.** I wanna hear you cry and _beg._ But maybe _-_ if you play your cards right - and tell me where you are right now, I'll go easy on ya. You know. For old times sake! Cause we're buddies... _ **right?**_ "

 _ ***Click! Ooooooooooooooooooooooooo…..**_

 ***** _ **You hang up the phone, the dial tone keens ominously in the empty hall.**_

 _...ring….ring…_

 _ ***Don't answer**_ _._

… _.ring…..ring…_

 _ ***DONT. ANSWER!**_

 _...ring...ring…_

Against their better judgement, Frisk answers the phone, screaming into the receiver: "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" Their heart thudding is the only sound. If only it could drown out the internal screaming.

….

….

….

"You're in New Home, _aintcha_?"

Frisk drops the phone, dragging Sans down the hall with all their might. As they turn to flee, the speaker volume makes Anarchy's mad baying sound as though he's already breathing down their neck.

* * *

 _Justice_

Clover and Predator stared at each other, Predator trapped inside a perimeter of golden crosshairs, cumulous clouds gliding past them. "Yikes!" Predator thought to themselves. _He uh...didn't take that well. But...its nice to see him put his big boy pants back on._ After all, she couldn't take her LT with her into a warzone with that dreary cloud of uncertainty raining down on him the whole time. Man, what a downer that had been. Sure, maybe there were better ways of going about restoring a guy's confidence after emasculating him in public, _buuuuut_ anybody who knew her would be lying to themselves if they thought she'd be orthodox about it. It was easier to push someone into action when they were mad than when they were mopey. But... judging by that expression, guess she hadn't quite found the right balance yet. Now...how to diffuse this precarious situation?

"Alright LT, looks like you got some things you'd like to get off your chest," said Predator, both hands raised in a 'don't third eye me' position.

The Yellow Soul spat to the side, clicking the hammer of his revolver back. "Its Clover. I ain't your LT no more. And I ain't got nothin to say to you." His voice came out frostier than her magic. Not a good sign...

"Ah, c'mon now. Don't be like that." Predators ice wings flapped, struggling to maintain her altitude in the exact same position without touching the crosshairs. Not easy. For starters, she wasn't a helicopter, and second, the wings were made of friggin ice! Not exactly lighter than air. "We got a lotta history behind us. You and me? As far as the IGP is concerned, we're the original _A_ team!" Predator pumped her arm across her stomach, only to quickly reach back for the sky as a warning shot glanced by her ear with a loud _PWANG!_

Clover snorted. "Yeah. Real historic. Didn't stop ya from feedin me to the dogs none, now did it?" The hammer clicked back again.

"Clov-"

"Shut up!" Clover tilted his hat down, shrouding his features. Wisely, Predator did as he demanded, shutting up that is. "Heh...history eh?" He glanced skyward, as if he were browsing through that history in his mind's eye. "After all the scrapes we been though, still hard to believe you'd try to off me like that. That's real cold. But a dog can only get kicked for so long before it can't bother to be loyal no more. So…"

Yellow energy enveloped Clovers firearm, morphing it from an antique six shooter into a hand cannon that looked like it could blow the head off a mastodon. A yellow sphere of energy channelled near the tip of the barrel, his **SOUL** fueling its power with **JUSTICE** , and when it came to betrayal there was a lot of justice to be served. "...consider this my two weeks notice."

"Well" Predator shrugged lightly "if that's how you feel."

[ _Respite, Undertale OST by Toby Fox_ ]

Clover's eyes narrowed, teeth gritting. "It is!"

But did he really?Even now she still kept up that devil may care attitude. That attitude had drove him bananas since day one of being hired by the screwball. So why? Why was she floating there like she hadn't done anything wrong, looking at im like he wasn't about to blow her into kingdom come. He was in the right, wasn't he? This was the just thing to do. She was the one who started all this nonsense!

" _C'mon, get up hayseed! Can't go dyin on me yet! We haven't got that bounty. If you kick the bucket then who am I gonna split it with?"_

" _Drinks on me, Clint Eastwood. Just kiddin! I already spent all my earnings! ...Wait! No...I mean...I was kiddin about kiddin! Haha...quit loading that thing, alright!_

" _You did your best Clover...that's all any of us can do. What happened to Forger... it wasn't your fault." Predator had her arms wrapped around Clovers midriff, his back turned to her, holding him close to her chest, the two of them standing over an unmarked grave with a single metal pipe as a stand in for Forger's tomb stone._

Justice's gun rattled in his hand, a painful grimace on his expression. "Oh, I git it now. That's what all this is about, init? Chewin me out at the bar. Firin me. Leavin me to die! Its cause of the last time we tangoed with that rotten bastard _Anarchy_! INIT! Its cause...Its cause it really _was_ my fault, right!?" The sphere of yellow shimmered, cracks appearing in its surface.

Predator recoiled, the memory of an old wound torn open again. "Clover," She glanced to the side, "listen to me…"

"I shoulda done somethin. I was in charge of the mission. It was MY responsibility! Who other than me can be held accountable!?"

Predator stared straight into his eyes, a neutral tone in her voice. "Anarchy, that's who."

Clover chuckled mirthlessly. "So you keep tellin me." He looked up at her. "But that's not what you really think, is it? Otherwise, why would you and I even be here?"

More cracks spiderwebbed, the sphere trembling with instability.

"Clover," Predators hand reached out. "Stop doin what your doin and listen to me."

"Maybe... _Im_ in the wrong….

 _Crack…._

"Clover, look at me!" The crosshairs around Predator vanished.

"Maybe you're right."

 _Crack…._

"Maybe…" His firearm fell to his side, the violent energy next to him forgotten.

 _Crack…_

Clover smiled, moisture spilling down his cheek "...It's me who needs judgement..."

 _SPLIT!_

Predator's heart froze. "CLOVER!" In the space between seconds, Predator's left eye flared the crimson red of the Chosen. Dashing to her second, she tackled him into the nimbus behind him. A mere second later, a yellow star bloomed in the atmosphere, vaporizing the cloud cover in an instant.

On the surface below, a child frolicked through a field of sunflowers. When they looked up, they saw the gray overcast had vanished, replaced by an innocent blue sky.

It was a beautiful day outside.

* * *

 **Authors Note: So I think Xwolf is waaay better at using and describing body language. Its something I hope to improve upon as I continue writing. Let me know what you guys think with a review. Every time I feel unmotivated I just scroll through what you guys have said to me and it gives me the wherewithal to keep at it! So keep em coming! I always appreciate constructive criticism too, so let me know immediately if something doesn't jive with you. Also, let me know what you guys think of the music idea.**

 **Review Questions:**

1)What's your initial thoughts and reactions after reading this chapter?

2)What was your favorite moment(s) and why? What was your least favorite moment(s) and why? 

3) What was your favorite or most memorable line(s) of dialogue and why?

4)What are your thoughts on the characters?

5)On a scale of 1-10 how much did you enjoy the chapter?

6)On a a scale of 1-10 how eager are you to read the next chapter?

7)Do you have any predictions?


	5. Chapter 5: If you meet the Devils Wife

**Shout out to Reviewers**

MachUPB / ImANervousWreck / Spontaneously Artistic / Loyal Fan / I Guest As Much / Xwolf26 / DiamondAuthor551 / Wingah / madmalitiangamer / DoctahSawBones / FluffySheepLion / Raventalon

 **Authors Note:**

 **Lol, does anyone even read these? Whaddup my faithful followeres. Schools out so my update speed might just be a little faster from now til January 7 when I go back to school. Of course I'm always trying to emphasize quality over quantity when I can. But speaking of quantity this chapter was 10,000 words! Woot! I just keep out doing myself with length, huh? I think I'll keep chapters within this word count however. I don't want them to be so large that some scenes overshadow others, or too short that there isn't enough progression in the story, and I know I leave you guys on a lot of cliffhangers. Seriously, you guys are like the Mufasa to my Scar right now. Not in the regicidal sense, of course.**

 **Music: Youtube**

 **As always for those of you who actually listen to the music pointed out in the story I'll leave the tracks here so you can open tabs ahead of time, though there is only one. I do find it awkward to insert these tracks in the middle of a scene**

 **[Careless Whisper Saxophone Instrumental]**

* * *

 _"Antagonist: the one who initiates change." -Outsider_

CHAPTER 5: 

If You Meet the Devi'ls Wife Make Sure You Wear A Suit And Tie

* * *

 **IGP**

Gaster!Sans snored loudly in the ship's cockpit.

Black leather boots were crossed over his ankles, arms folded behind his skeletal head. The skeleton's body leaned back in the pilot's chair, nestled deep in his jacket. Outside the front window, nothing could be seen but a black abyss and streams of starlight whipping by at faster than light speeds. Numerous consoles and dashboards bore mind boggling quantities of buttons and switches needed to pilot his spaceship: _The River._ Taped to one of these dashboards was a picture.

The photo was of a young woman. She had squinty eyes, a half torn striped shirt that exposed her midriff, and light brown hair that fell to her shoulders. She posed with two finger guns cocked at whoever took the photo. Her eyebrows waggled suggestively as if she'd made a cheesy one liner. Around the girl's image, someone had traced a heart shaped outline with a red sharpie. The words 'bombshell' were written as captions underneath it. Beside it was another photo of the same woman and Gaster!Sans posing together, the tall skeletons arm wrapped about her waist while the girl wore his black fur-lined jacket. In the image he had half of an unlit cigarette clenched between his teeth, the other half of it snagged away by the girl who seemed to have a stern 'smoking is bad for you' expression, while G!Sans flashed one of his trademark bad boy smiles at her.

A shadow fell over the indolent pilot. From behind a much shorter skeleton peeked around the rotating pilot's chair, wistfully staring at the photos with blood-red eyes.

Flowerfell!Sans tore his gaze from the photographs. His old jacket was similar to G!Sans'. It looked about the same on Echo!Frisk as it did on sweetheart.

The Sans had his hands shoved into the pockets of his black shorts. Each leg was detailed with a single yellow stripe that ran vertically from waist to hem. A black and red striped scarf also hung about his neck, and where the fabric knotted was a collection of yellow flowers that had been sewn into the fabric. The only thing missing from his typical arrangement was his old jacket. He didn't have that anymore; just a simple, heavy, red turtleneck. He'd buried that jacket with his sweetheart a long time ago. At the time it didn't seem right to keep it. She really did love wearing it...

"You're a lucky guy, G-Man," said the Sans, sockets blacking out briefly.

Suddenly, a transparent blue hologram shimmered into being. It resembled the mythic Greek ferryman that guided lost souls into the realm of Hades; a tall humanoid figure swaddled in long flowing robes, and a deep cowl that showed nothing of its features.

"Tralala~," sang the ship's AI. "The cosmos is very temperate today. Don't you think, Cherry Blossom?"

The Fell Sans' ever present grin twitched. Snarling under his breath, he said, "How many times do I haff to tells you people, eh? Call me 'Sans'. The next one a you nincompoops calls me 'Cherry,' or 'Petals' or 'Blossom' or anythin' other than 'Sans' I. Will. END you!"

"Tralala~" chimed River, the AI phasing through 'Cherry's' body with ease, Sans staring after it. "I just came to tell you, Cherry Blossom; lunch is ready in the mess hall."

"Yeah," said Cherry. "I know. That's why I came to get this lazy sh-" The Sans winced, looking as if he were going through some sort of internal struggle. "...urgh...bag a' bones to come down."

River P chuckled, shaking its head. "Hue hue. That was a close one Cherry Blossom, but I'll let it slide. It's a shame though. You've gotten a lot better since we first took you on. Now the rest of the crew actually has to contribute to the 'vacation jar' instead of just you, tralala~."

Sans snorted at this. "Hah! When has that screwjob captain of ours contributed anythin? Blows he' money on shit faster than hyperspace!" Cherry paused, River-P staring at him relentlessly. "Crap…c'mon, River. That one just slipped out, ya know…? T-these things happen."

Several seconds of awkward tension filled the silence between them before River came to a final verdict. "Tralala, the vacation jar awaits~!" The hologram vanished before the Sans could retaliate.

Cherry placed a hand to his forehead, grinding his fangs together. "Yeah, well screw you too!" Cherry gestured rudely with his hands at any security monitors that were watching. River had eyes everywhere on the ship so they couldn't have missed it. Cherry proceeded to kick the back of G!Sans' chair, hoping to kill two birds with one stone by venting his frustrations while also waking up his comrade.

"Get up, flyboy!" Cherry jabbed the chair again for good measure, rocking the pilot seat back and forth.

Gaster!Sans was clearly in a deep sleep. He had a suggestive grin on his face, and his already macho voice slipped into a low, tantalizing intonation. "Oh...hey, Frisky. What are we gonna do on the bed you saucy little minx?" The chair rocking must've given G!Sans subconscious the wrong impression it seemed…

Cherry's skeletal cheeks burned with fury, a wolfish four-eyed Gaster Blaster hovering ominously above him. It growled like a lion, snarling at G!Sans with an expression perfectly reflecting its owners emotions. _Don't have lewd dreams of sweetheart in front of_ ME _you dapper sonuvabitch!_

The growling registered in G!Sans ears, though not - it seemed - the intent. "Oooh. You're feisty today. When did you become such an animal, babe? Raawr!" He growled back playfully.

Though it should not have been anatomically possible, a bulging vein could be seen, threatening to rupture atop Cherry's skull. His Magic Eye burst to life, and G!Sans' white soul turned red with a sharp _ping_!

"WAKE THE **** UP!" Cherry flung G!Sans about the cockpit with his _soul grip_ , while [' _Megalovania by Toby Fox']_ crescendoed fiercely in the background.

G!Sans grunted and moaned as he impacted with the floor, walls, consoles, and ceiling. He chuckled seductively in his sleep. "Damn, Frisky. Little rough for my tastes...but I don't mind bein' **adventurous**."

"That's it!" Cherry roared. "Now I'm gonna have a **Great Time**!"

"Oh ho ho!" said G!Sans. "So there's more where that came from, babe?" He cooed pleasantly whilst sailing through the air. "My body is ready."

Down in the mess hall a goat monster of short stature, wearing a pink sweatshirt, and a lighter pink turtleneck underneath padded towards the bolted down tables. She hummed quietly to herself, a steaming butterscotch pie nestled in her oven mitted hands. She raised her eyebrows at a sudden commotion coming from the deck above them. It sounded like something was being thrashed about violently.

"River, is something amiss?" Alter!Toriel glanced around the empty space, seeming to ask no one in particular.

River's hologram appeared instantaneously. The AI slouched over to gaze down at this much shorter version of Toriel; only as tall as most other Sans'. "Nothing to worry yourself over tralala~." River tilted its veiled face up, giving the impression that it was keeping track of a scoreboard. "As a matter of fact it is a most auspicious event. I believe there will be many contributions to the jar this fine day~"

Down the hallway, a loud and obscene expletive echoed with a thunderous roar. "FUCK YOU!"

"Many contributions indeed," said River

The 'jar' in question was actually a large plastic five gallon water jug filled about a quarter of the way with gold coins. River and Alter!Toriel gazed at it, Alter sighing wearily. "He was doing so well. I like vacations as much as everyone else, but it doesn't feel right when the vast majority of it comes at only Cherry's expense."

A dull thud could be heard as a throwing knife embedded itself deeply into a target board . The board itself hung against one of the steel walls.

"Hey, it's good for him." StoryShift!Chara leaned casually in a booth table, idly twirling their magic knives, the sharp implements floating about their head in a semi-circle. "You can't argue with the results." Another dull thud, the second knife landing dead center next to the first one. "And it's not like his language hasn't improved." The Chara launched another, and another, all of them striking the center of the target with deadly accuracy. "And when was the last time we went on a vacation anyway?"

"It hasn't been so long, child," said Alter. She frowned at Shift!Chara, a chastising note entering her voice. "And pull your hood down! Its rude to wear it up at the table."

Chara grunted before doing as she requested, even though this Toriel was only in her twenty's as opposed to ancient. Some things never changed they guessed.

"Yes, _mom_!" said the Chara, rolling their eyes at her. But they did as she bid, even going so far as to remove the green hoodie entirely. They muttered beneath their breath."She's like the Papyrus from my universe…except with a hint of crazy."

Alter nodded once, pleased that her request had been heeded. "Good, It would be a shame to have to waste such a scalding hot pie."

Chara's rosy cheeks blanched white. "You wouldn't dare."

But they knew better. Alter may have a motherly streak, but a terrible prank war had ensued after Chara faked slitting their arteries, spilling ketchup all over Alter after trying to give her a handshake. Alter responded by laughing hysterically with them before promptly shoving a hot pie in their face. There were many such pie mines strategically placed throughout the ship after that; places where Chara navigated frequently. They must have spent that whole week picking butterscotch crumbs out of their face and ass crack.

"Wouldn't I?" Alter!Toriels _magic eye_ flared orange, a mischievous grin curling the edges of her mouth, the pie in her hands wafting a threatening scent.

StoryShift Chara gulped, glancing at the steaming butterscotch pie warily like a soldier suffering from PTSD. "Please don't trigger me," they said, leaning back into the booth.

A loud booming voice assailed every ones ears. "Who is triggering the HUMAN? Cease your triggering at once! For I - the GREAT PAPYRUS - will not stand for it! As a matter of fact, I shall be SEATED for it!"

Everyone turned to see Disbelief!Papyrus gallantly strut into the mess hall, exuding confidence as he heroically scooched into the booth beside Chara, gloved hand resting upon his chestplate, his scarf fluttering gallantly despite there being no breeze. "Nyeh-heh-heh! I shall act as an impregnable shield! No confectionary missiles will make it past the GREAT PAPYRUS!"

Chara (or 'Shift' as they were referred when other Chara's were present) laughed lightly, beaming at the goofy skeleton. "Heh, you and Azzy are way too similar for your own good."

"Nonsense!" DP gestured wildly. "For though others may attempt to, all fall short of my ludicrous expectations! You have told me much of your valiant sibling, but even he can't hope to meet them; master puzzle maker though he may be!"

"Don't be too sure of that," said Shift. As a matter of fact, if it were between you two I'd put my money on Azzy every time."

Papyrus was clearly not convinced. "Ahem, though your devotion and brotherly love is admirable, it has blinded you to the truth! But if you insist, I shall simply have to demonstrate my greatness by dueling him into puzzle making submission! Nyeh-heh-heh!"

"Heh, yeah...I'm sure he'd have liked that." Shift glanced off to the side, their tone diminishing. Their hand reached for the rainbow bandanna tied to their arm.

"Its jarring, is it not?" asked Alter. "Knowing that their gone, but not really gone?" She  
took a seat across from them. Taking one of Shift's knives, the miniature goat monster used it to slice the dessert into eight pieces. Secretly she made sure to give Shift Chara a larger portion.

All three of them dipped their heads in mutual understanding. Papyrus' confident grin slipped. "Apologies, human," said Papyrus, voice somber. 'Somber' and 'Papyrus' didn't often go together, but Disbelief!Papyrus was more enlightened to the miseries of life. Unlike his multiverse doppelgangers, death and loss was not a foreign concept to him. He noticeably readjusted the blue sweatshirt donned about his shoulders. "Having shared your loss I should know better than to be so careless with my words."

""Don't worry about it." Shift said solemnly. "It's...probably easy to forget since I spend time with Azzy's doppelganger in Omega. It works for both of us. He lost 'me' too...technically. I...still don't know how I should feel about that."

Alter folded her white furry hands, leaning towards them, "Even if he isn't 'your' Asriel, It's good to see them regardless, is it not?"

"Yeah," said Shift, "it's just...hah...Multiverse! Am I right!?" They stabbed their slice with a fork, shoving a piece into their mouth, smiling at the bittersweet sensation. "Infinite possibilities. Infinite versions. Some worlds where you're me and I'm you? Or someone completely different even. Friends are enemies. Enemies are friends. Versions where we die, and versions where we stop _them_. Worlds where…" Shift trailed off. They covered their eyes, resting their face in their hands. "Jarring? What's really jarring is when you realize that in most universes…" They breathed deeply, opening their eyes to peek at Alter behind the pyramid of their hands. "...you _are_ the bad guy."

Papyrus gripped Shifts hands between his own. "Chara, before I joined all of you, when I lost faith that humans had any capacity for kindness, I might have thought the same of you. Today?" He stared straight into Shift's eyes, his unwavering gaze putting weight behind every word. "After all our struggles together, seeing how you selflessly risk your life to protect; I possess no uncertainties. I may no longer believe in my human, but rest assured that I - the Great Papyrus - believe in you."

Shift could only avert their gaze, throat seizing up. They said nothing. Not really trusting themselves to speak, they chewed an even bigger slice of pie so they'd have enough time to compose themselves.

"We have no cause to doubt you," said Alter, voice coated with reassuring sweetness. "We know you aren't like them." The tiny Toriel smiled warmly at Shift from across the table. Suddenly her eyes lit up. The little goat monster tilted her head to the side, her cute floppy ears swaying with the motion. She held up one hand, finger pointing towards the metal ceiling. "To prove it, I'll even remove that pie I placed under your pillow before you go to sleep tonight!"

Shift spewed pie crumbs all over the place, choking and hacking violently. DP massaged and patted them lightly on the back to ease their sputtering. Alter ate a slice of her own pie, giggling pleasantly.

 _Tchoo!_

"Hey guys," said a voice tinged with a rascals allure. "Hope you saved some for me."

'

"Gaster!Sans," said Toriel, addressing the voice, "Where's Cherry? He was supposed to bring you, but now it is he who is absent."

Gaster!Sans stood in the center of the mess hall, hands stuffed into his black leather jacket, a toothpick wedged between his teeth. "Huh? Oh yeah. Petals 'll be here. Once he figures out this was my shortcut."

"Shouldn't this have been the first place he looked?" Shift asked.

"Well," Gaster!Sans shrugged, "we were kinda playin cat n' mouse for awhile there. He's pissed at me for something though. Not many places to hide on _The River_ , so he should be here any-"

 _Tchoo!_

FlowerFell Sans teleported into the room, crimson eye's hunting for his prey. "There you are, you piece a shit!"

G!Sans grinned like a vandal. "-second."

"Hey, Cherry," said Shift

"Salutations, Petals," said Alter.

"Greetings, Blossom," said River

"Brother!" said Papyrus cheerfully.

Cherry pointed at each of them. "Fuck you! Piss off! Up yours! And…" He grumbled when he got to Papyrus, arm falling back to his side. "Hey Paps." The Fell Sans eyed the swear jar with hostility before flicking five gold coins into the five gallon jug.

"Guess he's gone into remission," said Alter, giving Shift a knowing look. "Can't argue with the results, right?"

"Hey! He 'was' doing better," said Shift defensively.

"Nothin but net," said G!Sans, watching as Cherry flicked coins skillfully into the jugs narrow bottleneck.

"I ain't done with you, flyboy," said Cherry. "So wipe that shit eating grin off your face." Six coins.

"What did _G_ even do?" asked Shift

Cherry made his way towards the booth, taking a seat next to Alter with a sullen expression. He stabbed the pie with a bone-fork as if to kill it. "Nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing."

Cherry gestured at the brat with a sharp bone-stake he'd summoned from thin air. "Drop it, Steak Knives." Shift raised their hands disarmingly.

G!Sans decided to seat at the bar instead, resting on one of the red padded stools. His arm reached for his rolled up sleeve before realizing he didn't smoke anymore. "It's just guy stuff," he said, speaking to Shift. "Nothing we can't sort out ourselves."

Cherry just grunted in response, stuffing his face with more butterscotch pie.

"Gaster!Sans..." said River, pointing towards the jar. The AI proceeded to play a recording of G's voice: ' _He's pissed at me for something though.'_

"Whoops!" said G. "Guess I got a dirty mouth too, huh? No surprise there..." G fished his pockets for a gold coin, both his eyes flaring with yellow magic.

 _Tchoo!_

He teleported to the swear jar, depositing the coin. Another ' _tchoo!'_ and he was back in the stool before anyone could even blink. "Just don't say I never contribute," he said good naturedly. "Anyway, has anyone heard from our glorious leaders? They've been in Omega for a while. Predator and Clover shoulda been back by now."

"That's YOUR job you lazy bones!" said Papyrus. "All the coms are in the cockpit!"

"Yeah," said G, "sorry about that, Papy. Just needed to catch my Z's. Besides, Predator told us to pick Lizard Lips up from his mission first, and we can't receive com signals at warp speed anyway."

DP hummed quietly to himself, arms crossed. "You are correct half-brother. Excuse me. I spoke hastily."

"Heh, don't sweat it, Paps. I was just wondering if they came back already through one of those nifty portals."

Alter spoke up, her plate already empty. "Monster Kite will be well, yes? I do worry about him going on that mission alone."

G!Sans _flashed_ over, seating himself on the tables edge. With a roguish smile, he reached over, cupping Alter's jaw gently between his phalanges, tilting her head up. In the background, a [ _Careless Whisper Sax Instrumental]_ enhanced his ovary imploding sex appeal _,_ masculine voice radiating confidence.

"Don't worry about him, Butterscotch, "he said, "Lizard Lips can take care of himself. But sending an extravagant beauty like you into harm's way - alone? Well..that would be unforgivable."

Cherry growled while the others shuffled uncomfortably, somehow beginning to question their own sexualities.

Alter regained her composure quickly. She huffed, slapping his hand away. "I'll put you in 'time out' if you don't behave yourself, you hound dog."

G!Sans traced small circles on the smooth fur of her hand. "Sure about that, Butterscotch? Maybe you could throw this hound dog a bone?"

Alter!Toriel snapped her fingers, summoning a Dreemur Beamer in the air. Tongues of fire brewed within the depths of the intimidating goat skulls maw. "The only thing I'll throw you is in the dog house. I'm sure Echo!Frisk wouldn't mind either."

"Woof." said G!Sans, winking at her before sliding off the table. He made for the stool back at the bar counter, [' _Careless Whisper']_ fading with his departure.

 _Jackass,_ thought Cherry. _And where does that damn theme music come from?_

But the real question was how someone's game reached a level where dialogue prompted a serenade of saxophones? Whatever. It wasn't the weirdest thing Cherry encountered since joining this motley crew. Cherry pushed his plate away, leaving his pie half-eaten. "I need a drink."

"And I need to drop us out of warp speed." G!Sans gave a two fingered wave.

Disbelief!Papyrus protested. "But, half-brother! You haven't eaten anything!"

"What are you talking about, Paps?" G asked, smirking lightly. He looked over his shoulder to wink deviously at Alter, [ _Careless Whisper]_ playing once more. "After all... **a succulent feast for the eyes is all a man truly desires**." He _flashed_ back to the cockpit right as a Dreemur Beamer rammed into where he'd been sitting, bar stool crunching under the force, [ _Careless Whisper]_ record scratching from existence.

"Insolent lecher!" said Alter, slamming her paws on the table, eyes burning orange. "I don't know how dear Echo can stomach the unfaithful dog! The next time I see him, I'll use my **special attack**!"

"Well," said Shift, gazing at a copy of Echo's photo stapled outside the crosshair of the target board, "I hear she's pretty 'open minded' too actually…uh, you okay, Cherry?" Shift caught him lingering on Echo!Frisks image.

"Huh...what?" Cherry dropped his gaze. "Course I'm fine. Why even ask dat?"

"Oh," said Shift, stirring their pie with a fork, "no reason."

* * *

 **Origin**

Chara flattened their hand, swiping it horizontally through the air as if they were cutting with their knife. Moments later, a rupture in space-time created a window into another world. Within this window, matrices of zero's, one's, and volumes upon infinite volumes of code streamed off into a dizzying stark white infinity. Eventually the code shimmered, fused, and rearranged, forming a rectangular gate into the Doubletale Origin timeline.

Chara paused to gaze through the portal at their home. It was funny how they'd be teleporting from an alleyway into another alleyway, but it was pretty close to their house, only a block from where they lived. Chara didn't bother to turn around and confirm Cter's presence. Behind them the boy leaned against a brick wall, hands in his pockets, balancing on one leg, hair shrouding his eyes. For the longest time Chara had the feeling that Cter wanted to talk to them. Every so often they'd hear a hesitant intake of breath, or the slight pop of his jaw unhinging itself to utter words that never saw the light of day. There weren't many situations where Cter didn't find the opportunity to run his mouth off. But this was one of them.

Cter could have opened a portal into his room had he wished, but for whatever reason he chose to linger behind Chara like a lost puppy. Chara wished he'd just open his own portal. They were not in the mood to talk right now and they wanted to exorcise their frustrations before going to bed. Preferably alone, where they didn't have to see his face, or feel the weight of his shadow.

"I'm going for a walk," Chara said curtly, facing away from them. "So go to bed and _don't_ follow me."

Cter said nothing, but Chara could feel his eyes on their back. They stepped through the portal, entering their neighborhood. Spontaneously they looked up at the night sky, briefly taking in the cosmic glory of the stars and the pale crescent moon above them.

' _It feels like forever since I've seen the sky. There's just something about it I guess. It's endless. Really makes you feel small, but I don't… I don't have much of a problem with it. Being underground is so restricted...Being up here you know you can go anywhere. From underground to space, we're free up here. That's probably why people like it. It's what it represents.'_

They closed their crimson eyes, recalling Cter's words. Back then, before they were who they are now, Cter had merely been a curiosity; a new toy to play with. Now...they couldn't pin down what he was to them anymore. And Cter being the kind of person he was didn't exactly make it easier for either of them to determine that either. But perhaps they were being too harsh on him? They considered calling out to him again…

 _No_. Chara shook their head, chin-length hair brushing the blush of their smooth cheeks. They couldn't deal with this right now. What they needed most at the moment was to be alone with their thoughts. Breathing deeply they were just about to close the portal behind them when-

Chara narrowed their eyes at a darkened bipedal silhouette. Someone was standing in the alleyway in front of them, someone who only a couple seconds ago hadn't even been there in the first place. A hooded figure loomed directly in front of them, about twenty paces from Chara's position. They were short, only about four to five feet in height give or take. The night made it impossible to see their features beneath that hood. Curiously, Chara could see hints of magenta and yellow glowing within its veil like neon.

"Sans?" asked Chara. "What are you doing here?" Behind them, Cter rose from his position against the wall in Omega, frowning slightly, eyes creasing in suspicion.

The figure spoke, removing their hands from the pockets of their black-cyan jacket. They appeared to be wearing fingerless gloves, the fingers themselves a vivid yellow color. "Are you the ones?" it asked.

"Are we the what?" Cter said, standing shoulder to shoulder with Chara, startling them. When had he appeared next to them so suddenly? Cter cricked his neck, rolling his shoulders a few times. "Actually, you know what. Forget that last question cause I got a better one for ya." A dull red glow shimmered briefly within the dark green iris of Cter's left eye. "Who are you and what are you doing in our timeline?"

It started walking towards them, a squelching sound could be heard as it placed one foot in front of the other, like the sound a saturated sock makes inside of an equally drenched sneaker. Mysterious ebon, magenta, and yellow blobs of liquid floated about its person, amorphous and fluid in their movements.

Cter grinned. "No answer, huh? Guess that's fair, since that was actually two questions." Tendrils of ink danced between Cter's fingers. Chara's hand drifted to the grip of their knife, wrapped in a sheath around the thigh of their right leg. "Still," Cter glanced off to the side, "it's pretty inconsiderate asking people questions without first introducing yourself. Wouldn't want to make a bad first impression or anything, right?"

It stopped about fifteen paces from the two of them. "Actually," it said, raising a hand. Cter's eyes widened in shock and agony, the ink between his fingers stabbing him, forming into savage spikes that penetrated through the flesh of his mangled hand.

Chara growled, drawing their blade. They disappeared with a burst of celerity, a line of dirt speeding towards Cter's assailant. Chara reappeared, plunging their knife where its heart would be. But the the penetration didn't _feel_ right. The consistency of flesh and bone were familiar to Chara. This felt like stabbing a pool of water. Not only did their knife go through the assailant but half of their arm as well. Chara's eyes widened in shock staring directly into the diamond shaped yellow eye of their assailant, limb jutting through its back.

"Actually," It said, Chara struggling to free their arm from the thickening mass of its body. "I came to make a very **BAD** impression." Blue strings materialized around Chara. It flourished its hands, causing the cords to tighten around Chara's neck. Their mouth gaped, throat desperately trying to suck in air. Chara reacted quickly, reaching around with their left hand, they swapped the knife from their right, slashing through the cords. Able to breathe again, but with their arm still trapped inside the quicksand of its chest, Chara slashed the assailants face repeatedly with a whirlwind of strikes. It gazed back at Chara with a ' _really?_ ' expression, the knife sloshing through its features like a paddle through a stream. Even its clothes parted as though made of fluid.

A current charged through the air. The sound of whirring energy caused it to glance in shock towards the beat blaster aiming at its head. _WHIIRRR-PEEEEW!_

Chara was blinded by a white flash of light, pure energy radiating heat against their body. When Chara's eyes adjusted to the darkness again, the assailant was gone. _Did Cter get them or did they run away?_

"Chara!" Cter shouted, holding their mangled hand close to their chest. "Jump!"

Chara reacted instinctively. Ink staves shooting up from where they previously stood. They rolled into their jump, skidding across the pavement. "Cter! What the hell was that for?!"

Cter grit his teeth, pointing at the ink staves with his good hand. "Wasn't me, jahombre."

The ink staves weren't just black, but also speckled with yellow, magenta, and reinforced with blue strings. The mass of spikes reformed into a vaguely humanoid shape. Moments before the beat blast,the assailant dissolved into a puddle directly beneath Chara. Had they jumped a millisecond later, Chara would've been impaled on those spikes.

"You were the ones who beat dad?" It said after reforming, flashing its yellow 'teeth' at them. "You guys don't seem so tough to me." It squinted at them, the shape of its eye reforming from a diamond into an hourglass. The dark clouds parted overhead, moonlight illuminating their foe.

It appeared to be a being entirely made of ink, vaguely resembling a Sans, but leaning a bit more towards adolescence. Bits and pieces of itself floated about, dollops of ink concentrating near its tear drop head. The main color of its ink body was black. Speckles of cyan, magenta and yellow colors dotted its clothing and features like spray paint. A light brown, cream-colored scarf wound about its neck. Its eyes were mostly yellow, with the left cyan pupil changing into different geometric shapes every so often. Magenta and yellow ink splotched its pudgy cheeks like artsy freckles. It wore a cyan-black jacket, magenta v-neck shirt, a purple sash and fanny pack, black-cyan shorts and orange-black leggings. It's shoes were simple slippers, same color as its scarf. Three tongues, magenta, cyan, and yellow, poked from its mouth, childishly taunting them. "You're also pretty dumb too."

Red vapors of **DETERMINATION** snaked off of Cter's wounded hand, his flesh and fingers appearing to knit themselves back together, Cter pocketed the hand, casually strolling towards the ink creature. "Buddy friend guy pal, I don't know what your beef with us is, and honestly I can't give a crap. It's been a pretty long night and we were havin' a good time of it til you showed up. Not to mention, I'm losing some much needed beauty sleep." Cter indicated the bags under his eyes with an index finger. "So I'm gonna give you one chance to walk away before something bad happens to ya."

It scowled at Cter in response. "You know, you're not as cool as you think you are." It's left eye morphed back into the diamond shape. "And people like you have been making my job a lot harder too."

Chara rose from their crouched position, knife poised at the ready. Their right arm was coated in ink up to the elbow. Job? Why did that sound so familiar? "Let me guess." Chara circled to the ink creatures left, Cter positioned to its right. "Another self righteous timeline destroyer?"

"So what if I am?" It asked, arching a thin magenta brow. "Someone has to maintain the balance."

Cter rolled his eyes impatiently. "Oh, so that's it then? 'It's a dirty job and somebody has to do it?' I fought a guy who talked like that once. Real piece a' work. But buddy, I can tell just by looking at you...you're nowhere near as strong as he was."

It lowered its head, pupil shifting from diamond, to tear-drop, to heart-shape, and then back to diamond all in the space of a second. "So I was right. You _are_ them." It stabbed a bright yellow finger at him. "You're the ones who killed Error!"

"What's it to you?" Chara asked, genuinely curious.

It hesitated, pupil shifting from a rhombus to an hourglass to a diamond repeatedly. "...N-Nothing! I don't care about that deadbeat jerk! I'm just here to show everyone I'm better than he could ever hope to be!"

"Got somethin to prove?" Cter rocketed forward, fist pulled back, red aura glowing off his body. Do it somewhere else!" He threw his fist straight through the creature's head, a shockwave of **DETERMINATION** rippling through its body. "Eat this!"

Ink and blue thread's exploded everywhere, staining the concrete and brick walls. Cters smirk melted into a frown, expression darkening beneath his shaggy dark brown hair.

The creatures mass dissolved around him, enveloping Cter and coating him completely black with ink. It then gradually reformed several feet from him.

"Geeze," it said, turning to look at him over its shoulder, "this guy's got **CREATION** magic and all he does is punch people. What a waste. Like I could ever lose to someone like you, retard."

Ink dripped off Cters clenched fists, the whites of his unblinking eye's the only thing visible. He smiled beneath the ebony coat. Ink fell off his body, not a single bit of it staining his form. Cter molded the ink into a solid sphere launching it at the creature overhanded. The sound barrier broke and the creature cried out in shock before the cannonballs impact splattered it all over the place.

A gold shimmering star floated in the middle of the alley where the creature once stood. Chara raised their eyebrows in shock. It looked like a **SAVE** point, but…

The ink and scattered blue threads pulled themselves back together for the second time, coalescing around the twinkling star. "Watch it you jerk!" It cried, shaking a fist.

"Heh. So that's it." Cter turned around, one hand still in his pocket. He pointed directly at the creature, or more specifically where the twinkling gold star had been. "That's your **SOUL,** isn't it?"

The creature took a step back, pupil temporarily forming into a circle before reverting back to a diamond again. It didn't like this humans expression.

Cter nodded. "I'll take your lack of response as a 'yes' then." Cter summoned a barrage of pens, all aimed at the creature's vital **SOUL**. "You know I was worried for a bit there. For a second I thought conventional attacks might be completely pointless against someone like you. But since you have a **SOUL** …" He smirked, tilting his head to the left, throwing his hand down and launching the volley of spear-length pens at it. "That'll make kicking your ass a bit easier, huh?"

"Oh yeah…" The ink creature folded a fist, launching itself at Cter, easily twisting and sliding between the narrow gaps of the pens with its amorphous body. A small paint brush appeared in its right hand, blue threads spider webbing from its left. " **Bring it on pencil pusher!"**

 _Check(?)_

 _Stats:_

 _HP: N/A  
DEF: 60  
ATK: 10_

 _*Great. Just what we needed; an ink monster with daddy issues…_

 _*Who does that remind you of?_

 _*...shut up._

* * *

 **Future**

Alphys ran through the corridors of the judgement hall. It was a race against time and hope. Monsters filed past her in the opposite direction, fleeing for safety back into the Underground by order of the last of the royal family, Cter Hacker. She had to hurry. She had to stop him.

The sound of dull thudding could be heard above her, and every so often a thin powder of dirt and debris would trickle down upon the heads of the refugees, the last of Monsterkind fleeing Metropolis, trying to escape the storm trooper brigades of the HSO and AMD. It was probably their artillery shells. Had their armies already reached the base of Mount Ebott? Where was Cter? Where was their King? Where was her friend?

 _He can't do this. He can't face them alone!_

Alphys snagged her leg on her lab coat, tripping and falling, her glasses sliding across the tiled floor. _No! Not now!_ Alphys frantically groped along the checkered tiles, half blind. She needed her glasses. She couldn't find Cter without her glasses.

Her hand reached out but was nearly trampled by another wave of family's fleeing for the Underground. Alphys cried out when the heel of a careless refugee crushed her glasses. When she heard them shatter it may as well have been her own heart. The Old Royal Scientist huddled low, silently sobbing.

A hand touched her shoulder. Her eyesight was poor but she could see the outline of a young human. "Are you okay?" they asked. The voice was young and male. The boy - at least, she thought it was a boy - was holding the twisted rims of her glasses.

"Don't cry," they said reassuringly, patting her shoulder. "Crying doesn't do any good. Especially in times like these…" Their voice trailed off. They sounded so calm and accepting. But how could they, when everything was falling apart? "Things are bad right now, but that's when we need to try our hardest. As long as we do our best, we can come out smiling no matter the outcome."

"H-how... _sniff_ ," Alphy's wiped her nose. "How can you be s-ss-so-sure?"

Alphys gasped feeling a familiar sensation curl around her head. She could see again. And more importantly she could see the young boy, who was noticeably squinting as if they were having trouble seeing as well.

"You have to find someone, don't you?" he asked. Someone important to you...right? I could tell. Your not running away. Your running towards something. Running _for_ something."

Alphys could only nod, rendered speechless by this one act of generosity in the midst of so much tragedy. More than a few of the refugees were actually humans who had once been residents of Metropolis, the only city-state left that hadn't been overrun by the AMD. The last bastion where Monsters and Humans could live together in peace. These men and woman had lost their homes as well.

"I don't really need those anymore," The child said solemnly, pointing at their glasses. "So if you can persevere, maybe you can use them to save what's left." They smiled thinly, "No matter what happens all we can do is our best, right?" And without another word the child turned to follow the river of humanity and monsterkind.

"W-wait! Please! You're by yourself, right?! I-I can' take these! You need them to find your loved ones too right?"

The child stiffened slightly, turning around with a broken expression before their features settled back into one of stoic acceptance. "Oh...heh...well, when the bombing began I wasn't in the house wh-when…" They lowered their chin.

Alphys flinched, squeezing her eyes closed so she wouldn't have to see that expression. The horrible expression of one so young having lost everything. "I-Im so sorry. Please forgive me," she said desperately. "P-p-please take them back." Her hand reached for the glasses. "I c-can't take these..."

But when Alphys looked up the child's back was already turned, padding calmly after the mob while others ran, his small purple heart-soul beating quietly in front of his chest.

Seeing his example, Alphys rubbed the tears from her eyes to gather herself. She rose from the ground with a look of determination etched into her scaly features. Fighting with all her might she strove against the panicked tide of flesh and magic.

"My King!" She cried above the throng. "Cter!" _My friend…_

* * *

Future strode past battalions of destroyed, flaming tanks. Their mangled steel carcasses bore the sigil of a clenched fist; the flag of the AMD, a white fist on a black background. He cupped a hand above his brow to shade his eyes, squinting at the horizon. F-Cter could see black exhaust rising from the advancing armored divisions. What wave was this again? He hummed slightly in thought. This was the sixth, right?

"It's seven, remember?" the ghost of Future Chara floated above the flaming man-hole of an abandoned tank, its crew burnt alive inside. They grinned mockingly at him. "You're supposed to be good at keeping track of these things."

"Hey," said Future, "lucky number seven! Good for them. Maybe they'll hit the jackpot?" Future uncapped his flask, draining it. Dark circles rimmed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Aaagh...there's this awful shrieking in my ears. Aren't hangovers supposed to come after the booze?" A green pen shot from F-Cter's sleeve, an emerald bubble sheltering him just in time before legions of mortar rockets screeched from above. Dirt and fire plumed into the sky, cratering the valley until it resembled the face of the moon. The smoke cleared, Future striding out of the safety of his barrier, hands in the pockets of his beige jeans. "Oh wait, those were just hellfire rockets," he shrugged, "my bad."

F-Chara rolled their eyes at him. "Guess their not very good at softening you up, huh?"

F-Cter nodded once. "Someone shoulda told them bout my arachnophilia. They woulda won hours ago if they'd exploited that. Speaking of…" F-Cter snapped his fingers, summoning a line of beat blasters. They fired in sync, vaporizing the assault helicopters that had launched the hellfire rockets. The AMD's armada smashed into the ground, consumed by tongues of yellow fire, the choppers burning away like immolated moths. "...If I survive this I'm gonna need to visit mini-me's timeline for some more spider poon. Like, a LOT more."

F-Chara cupped their hands to their mouth, shouting at him above the noise of twisted metal, crackling flames, and wailing death rattles. "Stay focused you fucking furry!"

F-Cter laughed lightly. "Hey, you know me, I've always been a leg guy. Preferably naked...with socks."

"Muffet has more arms than legs, dip-shit."

"I was referring to yours."

F-Chara fumbled for words, gaping furiously, before throwing their incorporeal arms into the air. "I give up. You're hopeless!"

"Heh, that we can both agree on," F-Cter cricked his neck, raising the orange pen in his hand. He shot forward across the battlefield, propelled by the orange arrow beneath him, accelerating across the length of five football fields. His feet made contact with the chest of an AMD soldier. F-Cter proceeded to bicycle kick the man to death like Liu Kang from Mortal Kombat, blood shooting from the man's mouth with every strike. His corpse sailed through the air into a squad of grunts, their rounds going off wildly into their own ranks.

"Did you see da footwork doe!?" F-Cter snapped and pointed at them, bullets ricocheting off the green bubble he summoned moments later. _Fuckin combo breakers…_

His blue pen floated from behind. F-Cter activated its _soul grip,_ grabbing the squad's commanding officer by their...well... **SOUL**.

Cter used him as a meat shield, round after round penetrating his body. Future emanated a purple hue, the rest of the ammunition clattering off his skin,

 _*Using the purple pen (and the body), you persevered the attack._

The other AMD storm troopers looked on in horror at not only having failed to eliminate their target but destroying their chain of command in the process. Future gave them a withering look.

"I hear killing your own leader in battle does wonders for troop morale," said F-Chara, leaning against F-Cters back.

Future flung the officers body back at the other soldiers, an orange soul floating gently where its owner had died. It wouldn't shatter from physical attacks. Only magic could harm **SOULS** directly.

 _Bravery, eh?_ Most soldiers tended to have that trait. Fine line between 'brave' and 'stupid' though. After all, if any of these guys had an ounce of intelligence…

 _ **They wouldn't have pissed me off.**_

One of the soldiers recovered, launching a grenade at Future's feet. F-Cter used the orange and green pen at the same time, launching himself backwards and propping up a green wall as cover. The grenade went off, but instead of an explosion of shrapnel it was a dizzying burst of light. Even with the wall, the light and noise was disorienting.

Continuing to use the orange pen, Future rapidly moved from left to right, forwards ,and backwards, dashing across the valley with unmatched agility. Lance-sized pens and energy spears launched at his foes, the pens rupturing from the ground while the energy spears drew their focus to the air. A dozen grunts took pens straight through the chest. Some died instantly while other cried out in agony, one of them bleeding out in the dirt to cry for his mother. _Shoulda stayed home kid. Battles no place for a mommas boy._

Shit. When was battle a place for anyone except adrenaline junkies and psychopaths? All of this was just...stupid.

* _Your LOVE has increased!_

* _you are now level 12!_

Future might have winced like he had the first few waves he decimated. But whether it was just his inborn resignation, or the LOVE he'd already accumulated - dimming his humanity, Future didn't even blink. _Guess it was only a matter of time before things came to this. How am I gonna keep this a secret from mini-me?_

Future took shelter behind a row of beat blasters, their energy beams lancing straight through LV maxed AMD soldiers. A tank burst through a hedgerow, its mounted machine gun blazing death at him, deafening the air with the power of industry.

Bet they really wanted to use that BFG on him instead. As if he'd give them the opportunity.

Cter held up the green pen in one hand looking through the transparent wall it generated, machine gun fire deflecting off its surface. _Hey! I'd be like Green Lantern if Green Lantern were a hero that fucked people up!_

Future stomped on the ground, a wave of keys undulating across the field like a pianist performing a _glissando_. When the seismic key wave reached the tank, it rocked the land cruiser up and down like a boat lost in a squall. The key mines exploded, tearing through the weak underbelly and launching the tank high into the air. When the earth's gravity embraced it once more, the ground crushed it like an aluminum soda can. Its munitions went off next, generating a shockwave that ruptured the organs of anyone within its vicinity, body's sailing through the air.

Cter sang: "Hey, look at me, casually walkin away like action movie hero boy. In slo-mo, everything blowing and blowing to bits right behind me-e-e-e-e!" Ah...The fiery explosion was a nice touch. _Just like on the silver screen. Now all I need are some spiffy shades._

 _*...we both know that's not what you really need._

F-Cter looked at his textbox shrugging lightly, pretending like he didn't care. "Since when has the world ever cared about what I _want_ or _needed_." F-Cter sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, briefly giving his eyes sanctuary from the carnage. The green shield deflected sniper rounds while he took a momentary breather, steeling himself for what was to come. He took another draught from his flask. "Maybe that's why I've always been angry at it up til now."

F-Chara glanced at him out of the corner of their eye, a deep frown etched onto their face. "So what about now then?" they asked, part of them dreading the answer.

More machines and ranks of AMD soldiers were cresting the hills, taking up firing positions, digging trenches. Cter looked behind him, the shadow of Mount Ebott looming over them all. Somehow, it was comforting, having the ancient monolith at his back. Future heard uphill battles were hell for the offense team. So long as anyone dared, the King Under the Mountain would make them bleed for every elevation.

"Heh...now?" Cter's expression was blank, eyes dim. In the distance, Metropolis was burning.

Future snapped his fingers, a circle of Beat Blasters appearing over the entrenched army. It was joined by another circle, then another, and another, until seven halos of death appeared over the mass of men, each ring circling clockwise or counterclockwise above them, rotating like a spiral galaxy.

"Now I just don't care anymore…" Future snapped again. There was a loud discharge, searing light, and the AMD's 3rd Army group perished inside a dome of energy.

 _*Your LOVE has increased!_

 _*You're now level 13!_

Future dropped to his hands and knees. He rasped heavily, sweat beading off the tip of his nose. _Hey...thirteen...That's an_ unlucky _number._ _Story of my life._

"How you holding up?" asked Chara

 _Absolute shite._ "...Peachy."

Future forced himself to stand, groaning as he did so, muscles protesting like political activists. _Sorry muscles, but I veto the motion._ He didn't think much of people with lofty ideals anyway.

"Time to take a dirt nap." He opened a portal to the throne room. More would come. Grillby's intelligence networks said the Anti-Monster Division were preparing a four-pronged attack on the Mountain tomorrow. He appraised the smoldering quarry of scorched glassy earth. Make that three-pronged...

Not much time for rest, but the question remained: north, south, or west?

Didn't take long before his bitter sense of humor decided for him. "Tomorrow, I'll defend the southern slope."

"Why south?" asked Chara.

"Seems appropriate is all."

Chara glanced at him, confused.

"Do I really have to spell it out for ya?" Cter entered the rectangular portal, its silver edges closing behind him. "I mean, if I'm going to fight somewhere, it might as well be symbolic of everything going downhill." Perhaps he was tempting fate, but as he left the fields of desolation, he turned to give Chara a morose grin. "Doesn't get any deeper than rock bottom, huh? Oh wells. Least it can't get any worse than this, right?"

* * *

 **Hollow**

Stark, starker, yet starker...

Where she dwells is purgatory; limbo, a realm unworthy of description. Regardless, all she can do is stare at an endless, white expanse before she exhausts her tolerance. Periodically, she opens and closes her eyes, trading starkness for darkness, till she tires of darkness in favor of starkness. It is a droll disparity to say the least. Her world is black and white, just like her choices; the only kind afforded to a lesser creature who knows neither civility nor reason.

She paces...Back and forth...Back and forth...Restlessly, like a caged animal - _Like_ a caged animal? She promptly halts. Has it not reached a point where the simile has become reality? Her pacing resumes. She - the restless beast - paces back and forth...back and forth... Ignoring her emptiness as effectively as she tries to ignore her 'environment.'

"Environment?" she mutters aloud. What an unworthy title. Only her pitch-black attire merits any attention to detail, but that has grown familiar as well, and she is oh so tired of familiar. She smoothes her hands over her torso, habitually ironing out the creases in her conservative, high-collared dress coat. The ornate frills of her sleeves hang low over her criss crossed hands, enveloping them like rose buds. A floral mourning veil straddles the curls of her midnight-blue hair, the thin mesh falling past her nose. Her mechanical pacing disturbs a knee-length skirt, the hem tatted with lacy trim. Beneath the trim, only form fitting stockings guard the modesty of her calves. Platformed heels lie forlorn in the corner of the bullet box, the girl opting for the bare soles of her feet. Out of boredom, she readjusts her jabot collar, its multiple ruffles fanning out like a conical sea shell.

Delicate fingers trace the yellow-sapphire gem nestled in the collar at the base of her throat. "Topaz," she whispers quietly, "...Jupiter's stone." The gem glistens softly, like a nomadic star cast beyond the orbit of celestial bodies. She flourishes her lacy parasol idly in her right hand, while vainly attempting to pace holes through the fabric of reality. Were it so easy. Sometimes - for the sake of variety - she removes a few vestments; sometimes half of them, and sometimes all of them. _Today_ , she is fully garbed.

She clicks her tongue, mimicking exasperation; not because she _feels_ exasperation, but because she recalls that is the habit of people who are exasperated. "Today?" she asks aloud once more. There is no today, or tomorrow, week, or year. Time is immeasurable. She gazes at the calendar of crimson tick marks on the wall of her cage. It didn't take long before she ran out of space. But waiting's always felt long for her. It had been an eternity before the marks reached the - she taps her heel on stark white; mimicking exasperation - ...' _ground'_.

"This place is maddeningly unclassifiable." Her voice...the sound is unpleasant to her ears. It's too throaty for her liking. Too..groany; like a man rising from deep hibernation. Dull and somber, like the blunt edge of a butter knife.

Butter...Bread...Food...what did it feel like to eat what Man eats? There was a time when her pyramid consisted of the six food groups. Her sustenance had altered a great deal since then. All that's left is the desolate base. _And it doesn't consist of bread and rice..._

"Stop thinking about food," she says glumly. _Occupy your thoughts._ She stares intently at the white background, trying to conjure her favorite settings from well-written novels. Trees. Meandering rivers. Rugged, rain sculpted mountains. Cities brimming with vim and vigor. It was a vain effort. All gazing at the snowblind produces is a familiar nausea. "Familiar…" She closes her eyes, white becoming ebon-black once more. Her lips part, counting aloud from zero to a thousand.

"One….two...three…"

...

"Five hundred and seventy two… five-hundred and seventy three…"

…

"...nine-hundred ninety eight...nine-hundred ninety nine...one thousand."

She opens her eyes, her long-lashed lids waning to a half-moon. White. Stale. She'd trade anything for a fresh landmark.

 _NO! NOT EVERYTHING!_

Her eyes snap open. The girl's expression remains taciturn, yet the heaving of her chest grows frantic. She collapses to the ground, folding her legs into a meditative position, relying upon the breathing techniques of east asian disciplines. She remains there till the tempo of her body harmonizes with the placidity of her mind.

Trade anything? Had she learned nothing of Faust? Had she learned nothing of her own errors? She found her desperation to be most unbecoming, and over a 'landmark' no less. Why wish for a hopeless desire?

...Well, there was _one_ landmark; made spectacular only by the sheer lack of anything else. Her rectangular prism. Her transparent cubicle. Her cage, as it were. This she could describe in utmost detail.

"I won't." she says stolidly, as if there were someone to deny. Of course, there was no one amidst the bleach-bone background. _Nothing_ , cept for the contemptual familiarity of a geometric prison.

She vacantly peruses her hex faceted bastille. Supposedly, the box serves an important function. He says it preserves her from the properties of the anti-verse; keeps her from 'glitching out', whatever that entails. It hardly matters. Supposing He's dishonest, what good would come of escaping? Walking in a vacuous dimension isn't exactly economical.

Its hilariously inconsequential, this prison. Powerful as He is, her warden pales in comparison to perspective and relativity. Terrifying gaolers to say the least, especially when bad company becomes preferable to none at all. While His experiments are...unpleasant, His absence is a special hell unto itself. Without Him she feels the eternity of alone.

At least she's regained her initial composure. She no longer howls senselessly for comfort, camaraderie, or release. One might think it cruel to be robbed of emotion, but she thanks Him for it everyday. Not that she can tell whether it has been a day. Or a week. Or years.

"Well, if you must know," she says, gesturing towards a blemished facet, "I keep a calendar of tick marks etched onto one of the walls. I'm allowed the small mercy of a few possessions; mostly novels I loot from my compulsory ventures into The Outside. Did you know the average person reads about two-hundred fifty to three-hundred fifty words per minute? I'm a bit faster, but after calculating my own speed I can deduce time by the lengths of novels, and how long it takes me to read them. I tried bringing watches...clocks...but they don't function here."

...

"Who am I speaking to?"

…

She shrugs. Honestly, she was shocked this mental degradation hadn't occurred sooner. No point in resisting the inevitable. Perhaps it is a symptom, but she can feel the invisible presence of some looming curiosity; of one or more vicarious observers. Well, who was she to deny an expression of interest?

"I've done all sorts of things to keep tedium at bay," she says. "For example," she gestures towards the wall opposite the calendar, "that's where I tried my hand at art. I'm no illustrator, but it wasn't like I had anything better to do." She pauses to look at the flaking burgundy scribbles marking the surface. "Turns out, human blood isn't the most cooperative medium." She flexes her fingers, teeth marks scarring the soft epidermis.

She pauses, brows creasing in thought. Now _there's_ an ultimatum worthy of puzzlement. Is it better to feel pain than nothing at all? Which does he who dies of thirst reach for? The poisoned goblet, or the empty chalice? "I've sipped from both cups," she says to no one. "Neither appeals, but there's a case to be made for poison. At least it wets the throat before it kills you."

She stiffens. A familiar presence. He approaches. She whispers quietly to the observer's. "I've sated your curiosities. Be off with you." The girl shuffles on her knees to face **Him**. After all, it'd be rude not to address her poison. "Hello, doctor," she says. "So glad to see you again." Her sardonic greeting used to have more bite; now, only a stifled, inner voice loathes it's sincerity. But she means what she says, and says what she means. It IS good to see... _someone_. And it helps that He doesn't tinker with her as often.

Shockingly, He deigns to address her. Disappointingly, it's business as usual. "There's a timeline I'd like you to visit."

 _Sound_. His voice resonates through her ears. A shudder runs through her body; her pulse quickening. She habitually clamps a knuckle between her teeth, red ink seeping from the old, familiar, wounds. Never again will she dismiss the utopia of company; even if it _is_ clinical and demanding.

"Is that a problem?" he asks, irritated by her lack of response.

"I'm not hungry," she says. _Curious. Why did I lie?_

His ghoulish smile speaks for itself. They both know that's never true. Besides, her desires are inconsequential.

"Deception isn't your forte, my dear. Tactlessness suits you better."

He's right. What use are lies to a phenomena such as herself? She needn't bother trying. "Where then?" she asks.

"There's a certain boy. I'm sure you've heard of him. Or should I say," he chuckles, " _read_ of?"

Her eyes narrow. _Boy?_ Realization settles in, and with it comes memorized passages.

' _Did you really think I'd let you have the first move?'_

' _Just trying to lighten the mood, but if you wanna keep things serious, let's bring that death counter up to three.'_

' _Too bad, when I was little I had a bad habit of breaking my toys.'_

' _You've got the look of two people panicking. And that's good. It's only natural for prey to panic when they're cornered.'_

' _What? You think I tried to spare you for_ ME _to survive?'_

' _Your feeling it right now, aren't you? What people other than you and me live with everyday...your own mortality."_

' _In your most private moments I want you to remember me. My face, my voice, my personality. I want you to crawl back to whatever hole you crawled out of and know that no matter how strong you get, I'll always be here to put you in your place. You remember that I'm out there and that next time...I won't hold back.'_

She yawns with half lidded eyes, gaze blank with disinterest. "I'll need more satellites."

He scoffs. "Your fears are misplaced. After all, peace has a way of whittling down obstacles."

She blinks...slowly. He's not wrong, but not wholly correct either. "Is that an overestimation of me, or an underestimation of him?"

His crescent smile wanes. "You and your questions…" Then it waxes, a thought occurring to him. "You should rejoice. Maybe you can finally talk to one who actually exists." His face is positively lunar. Ecliptic, but lunar. She considers his words, bouncing her parasol lightly against the skin of her thighs.

Talk? A foolish notion. He mocks her, but why bother? A beast is incapable of recognizing the subtleties of condescension. Her tone rivals the vacancy of their surroundings. "Hope is the opiate of the emotions." Her eyes droop ever so slightly, the mourner's veil fluttering against the breeze of her words. "I have no expectations."

He 'hmphs' in mild amusement, and makes as if to leave, but stops; pausing to reconsider. "On second thought, consume world's adjacent to his. Once you're ready, travel by way of the Void. DON'T enter his timeline till you make your presence known. Make him come to you. Towards that end, Wing Dings can finally make himself useful... _for once_."

She can't help but note the anger in His voice. She's drawn towards this passion, yearns for it. Wing Ding's is a touchy subject. She considers harassing His sensibilities. She would pay dearly for it, but it would be an experience...unfamiliar...something _...new_.

Caution prevails over the tantalizing prospect. Like so many times before, opportunity passes her by. She can't even fault Him for that. Passivity is a vice that belongs to her and her alone.

"Don't you think this is premature?" she asks, His back turned to her.

He peeks over a broadly defined shoulder. "You're not afraid...are you, Outsider?"

Outsider's **HOLLOW** emerges from her chest; a seething, swirling, black gyre; outlined by a thin membrane of red. It is the deepest of shadows, one that casts darkness upon darkness itself. Crimson vapors spill into oblivion's sinkhole like corpse blood engulfed by the jaws of Hades. As the dour girl cups the ruin of her **SOUL** between her hands, gazes into its bone-chilling umbra, she knows in her heart the abyss is gazing back. Pandora's box is unleashed, and all who witness hell's mouth dance upon the precipice of extermination.

' _Darker than Black.'_

' _The Singularity.'_

' _The Eye of Jupiter.'_

She has many names, but only one function.

"You should know me well enough by now, Ding Bats." Outsider fixes her gaze upon him, the cataract of her left eye producing an eerie halo effect. "I'm _always_ afraid."

As the promising future of countless lives wanes with Outsider's departure, Ding Bat's crescent waxes in tandem. Convergence draws near...

* * *

 **IP's**

Gaster!Sans & Echo!Frisk - Echotale by Yoralim (tumblr)

FF!Sans - Flowerfell - by .com

Alter!Toriel - Altertale - by friisans (tumblr)

DisbeliefPapyrus - Community

SS!Chara - StoryShift - by voltrathelively

MonsterKite & Cter - Doubletale by Xwolf

PaperJam - by 7goodangel

Outsider & Ding Bats - by MEEEEE!

 **Authors Note**

 **Agh! My OC's debut! I'm so nervous. I feel like a father sending his kids off to school for the first time. I hope they get along with the readers. So one thing you may have noticed about this story is there's a lot of characters from a lot of different fanmade universes thrown in here. I don't know why some people hate OC's on principle, but I've always liked the idea of spicing up stories by throwing new people into the mix. I mean that's what fanfiction is for, right? Anyway, this story relies heavily on multiverse theory and it gives me a cool excuse to have all these AU's running around. *Sigh the character dart board; lets just keep throwing characters at the board and hopefully some of them will stick lol! But nah they do have a purpose. I'm trying not to throw people in there just for the sake of having them. That shit can really bog down your writing if your not careful. As always, I eagerly await your input. Oh, and uh..let me know if 10,000 is too long and I'll reduce the word count.**

 **Review Questions**

1) What's your initial thoughts and reactions after reading this chapter?

2) What was your favorite moment(s) and why? What was your least favorite moment(s) and why?

3) What was your favorite or most memorable line(s) of dialogue and why?

4)What are your thoughts on the characters? Who stood out to you the most? Who are your favorites?

5) one a scale of 1-10 how much did you enjoy the chapter

6) On a scale of 1-10 how eager are you to read the next chapter?

7) Do you have any predictions?


	6. Chapter 6: Daggers hide behind open arms

**Authors Note:**

 **You guys should watch** Glitchtale **Season 1 & 2 on youtube if you haven't already. Its FOCKN amazing.**

 **Shout out to reviewers : Slow and Steady Turtle / Xwolf26 / Doctah Sawbones**

 **Chapter Music: Youtube search**

 **I recommend opening tabs before hand and pausing the extended music once the scene is over. Still on the fence about including music in scenes but eh, some people like it. I only used two again. Might include music for every scene if I feel up to it later, but for right now its just Doubletale tradition. Tradition makes everything okay.**

 _1) [Kindred Theme Extended - League of Legends Soundtrack]_

 _2) ["A Welcoming Smile" by NyxtheShield]_

* * *

Chapter 6:

Daggers Lurk Behind Open Arms And Welcoming Smiles

* * *

 **Underfell**

"Wow," said Anarchy, "what a pristine piece of real estate." He raised his foot.

Wood splintered, the front door to New Home flying off its hinges, shattering directly into the wall beyond. Anarchy sauntered past the porch; beneath him, a welcome matt inscribed with the words, "Wipe your paws," and a smiley face. Anarchy leapt over the matt, his dust-caked boots leaving dirty prints in his wake.

The pasty teenager perused the hallway, scratching his head. "Hey, buddy! You in here?"

No answer.

Anarchy frowned. "Huh...thirty percent of the time that works all of the time. Guess I've been thoroughly japed. Better call it quits then..." Anarchy trudged from the house, hunched over and crestfallen, his shadow disappearing through the doorway….

Giant boulders smashed through the kitchen wall, Anarchy strutting through dangling plaster and cloven two-by-fours. "Heh-heh, just kidding!" said Anarchy, flexing his wrist. "I know you're in here, Frisky! You haven't left the house! How do I know?"

Anarchy held up his brand new phone, the video feature synced with every security cam in the Underground. "Cause you're on carnage camera!" He twisted his body to look about the kitchen, stone wings smashing carelessly into dishware, and wooden furniture.

He strolled out of the kitchen, passed through the living room, and made his way to the bedrooms. His shadow fell across Asgore and Toriel's bedroom door. A crowbar bit deep into the wood, Anarchy smashing the entire frame to pieces, reveling in its destruction.

Different materials sure had a distinct feel to em when bashing. Anarchy could never quite describe it in words, just that it was oh so satisfying. He entered the room, bouncing the crowbar in the palm of his hand. "Alright, kid. If we're gonna play hide and seek, I hope you actually make this interesting for me, cause I swear to god if you're just hiding under the bed, I'm gonna be SO peeved!"

He placed the tips of his stone wings beneath the bed frame, launching it straight into the ceiling; bed posts punching straight through it, the bed hanging comically above him. Sadly, his prey wasn't there. He shrugged. "Oh wells. There's only a few more places to look. Unless…" Anarchy strolled over to the drawers, ripping them out and dumping the contents onto the ground.

 _*You rifle through Toriel's sock drawer. Sadly, there's no defenseless children, but there is some scandalous lingerie…_

"Yoink!" Anarchy quickly deposited the articles into his inventory.

 _*..._

 _*really?_

Anarchy scowled at his textbox. "What!? I didn't come here to grease up my #### and #### in a #### so you could _judge_ me!" He stormed out of the room, muttering vehemently. "Fockin ass... Kink shamin' ass…" The boy reached out a hand, knocking over a nearby vase just to hear it shatter.

 _*Feels good._

"Damn skippy!" Anarchy snapped. Hooo...was he in a mood. Nothing that basking in the tender cries of defiled innocence couldn't solve. Maybe he could use the lingerie...

"Come on out and play, little Frisky! I promise it'll be a _lotta_ fun! I just wanna kill you...torture you...maybe skull### your corpse a coupl'a times; burn the house down; go home and masterbate, okaaaay? And if you're _really_ lucky…" Anarchy's face darkened, left eye burning maliciously. **"** **I'll do it in that order."**

His eye caught movement to his left. He whirled, crowbar raised over his head to deliver a brutal strike. He stopped, metal tip inches from the mirror. Anarchy blinked lightly, his reflection gazing back at him.

Albino skin. Haunted, veiny eyes. That shitty, irritating monster dust flaking off his ashen hair, long and uncut. His body was lean and mongrel, t-shirt black and faded. Numerous holes and torn seams marred the threading. The red stripes were faded as well. His grin receded, just staring...

 _*Despite everything, this isn't who you wanted to be._

Anarchy narrowed his eyes at his reflection. "But it's how I turned out." He shrugged, hooking his thumbs in his cargo shorts. "Trying to be kind in a cruel world only invites hardship, ya know? The kid'll learn that soon enough."

* _Just like you did?_

"Hah! I think they might be more stubborn than I was! I mean...geeze. Pacifism? In this shithole? What is masochism?" he asked facetiously.

 _*you really hate them for that, don't you?_

"Hate them?" Anarchy paused, grin frozen in place. "...Nah," the crowbar slammed into the glass, Anarchy's image splitting into a thousand frames, "...just me." He wrenched it loose, glass shards spilling across the wooden floor. Anarchy slipped out of his boots, kneading the shards like a cat with his bare feet. Vapors of **DETERMINATION** rose into the air, trying to stem his wounds, while rivulets of blood seeped between his toes. The boy's eyelids twitched and fluttered wildly with every lacerating press.

"Ah...

 _Crunch._

"...Much…"

 _Crunch._

"...Much...better…"

 _Cru-_

"Anarchy," said a timid voice, "please stop. You don't have to do this."

Anarchy weezed psychotically, pupils gradually rolling into his skull. _Not a moment too soon._ He took his time turning around, floorboards creaking, glass crinkling with every step. He couldn't help but shake his head at their naivety. "You're so precious, Frisk. Why, I could just _pinch_ your little head off…"

He halted, eye brows knitting in confusion, grin melting into a frown. "Hey. The fuck happen to your eyes?" And when the hell did they get pastier than he was? "C'mon, Frisky, halloween was months ago. Not to mention," he raised his crowbar, launching himself at the child, "it's time for the Anarchy christmas special!"

Anarchy swung with all his might, crowbar splitting the child from skull to navel. The sensation of bones shattering, of flesh sundered by blunt force trauma was as familiar to Anarchy as breathing. So when his crowbar merely passed through the child as though they were transient air, smashing deep into the ground at his feet and cratering the floorboards instead, Anarchy scowled viciously.

He swung again. It missed. Again. Another miss.

"Anarchy, it's okay. I'm not here to-"

He reached for their throat, hoping to tear out their trachea with his bare hands. His fingers only grasped air, and he stumbled off balance. Tripping and falling to his knees, the albino glared hatefully at them from the floor beneath a white fringe of hair.

They smiled serenely at Anarchy, concern softening their already childish face. "I've only come to talk, Anarchy. Please stop. At this rate, you're only going to hurt yourself." Mockery only enraged him further.

He flailed his crowbar through every part of their body in a mad frenzy. "What the hell!?" Anarchy snarled like a wild animal. "Did some bastard get to you first and make a damn ghost out of you!?" He bathed them in flames, charring the hallway, but not setting anything permanently ablaze. They were fine. An ice wing shot from his back. He turned his fist into a frozen gauntlet, hoping to shatter them into a million glittering shards. It phased through. Two slabs of rectangular stone rose from the ground, slamming together, and pancaking the child between them. They casually strolled out. Steel spikes ruptured from the ground, piercing through their chest, stomach, eyes, and mouth. They should have howled and screamed in agony, begged for mercy, cried for their loved ones to save them. They didn't even whimper, didn't even bleed. Anarchy used his entire arsenal. He blasted, stabbed, crushed, froze, electrocuted, pummeled, slashed, kicked, bit, stomped, clawed, incinerated... All for naught. Even his Darkness failed him.

At that moment, something within Anarchy snapped. The teen raged and screamed. He ripped out tufts of his own hair with both hands. His nails bit deep into the skin of his face, gouging ribbons of flesh. Once he finally came to the realization he couldn't harm them no matter what he did, he vented his frustrations on everything he _could_ harm. He tossed boulders, shattering furniture. He burned the drapes to ashes. He incinerated the walls only to flash freeze them, thermal shock vaporizing them in an instant. Forks of lightning shot through his fingertips, tearing through the rooftop. Iron and copper pipes twisted and ruptured, bent by an unseen magnetism. His crowbar plowed through wood, concrete, tile, and plaster. The distraught teenager rampaged through every room, every nook and cranny in the house. The vandalism went on and on, all the while the gray child watched in solemn silence, blinking every so often with oval, pitch black eyes. They observed the mayhem before them with all the quiet acceptance of one who had seen as much and more. They wished they could stop him, wished they had some way to calm him down. To placate him. Reason with him. But there was no reasoning with madness; with blind, unrelenting hatred. So _C_ did what they were best at doing. They watched. And they waited.

* * *

 **Origin**

Cter ducked, the Ink creature's fist slamming into the brick wall behind him. He rolled across the ground. Pushing with his hands, he launched himself vertically into the air, momentum carrying him towards the rooftop.

The ink monster was close behind, casting it's blue strings. "Get back here and fight me!"

"No you," said Cter, dancing through the narrow gaps in mid air, slicing wires with an ink blade.

It growled, liquid body elongating into a serpentine trail. It bounced from wall to wall, climbing to Cter like a slinky.

"Oh shiz!" said Cter. The creature's arm extended impossibly far, a high-pressured jet of ink slamming into his shirt and pushing him until his back collided with a much taller building, cracks spider-webbing along the cement structure. Cter was saturated in ink once again. Before he fell, multicolored ink whips wrapped around his leg, the creature proceeding to fling him back and forth, slamming him up and down on the rooftop with its fluid body. _So, that's what that feels like…_

Cter smirked, his taunts punctuated by his body being pummeled repeatedly. "Agh...is it...just me…or do you...hit like...a little...bitch."

It reeled Cter in, practically spitting ink in his face. "Do you _ever_ shut up?!"

Cter scrunched his face, leaning back as much as could while wrapped in an ink tentacle. "Ew. Say it don't spray it, amigo. And also, I' don't have what it takes to be a star in the Japanese adult industry, if you know what I mean. Now, Chara on the other hand-"

His body plummeted through several stories of the office building. A mahogany desk broke Cter's fall, the expensive wood shattering in half. Cter half rose, half stumbled from its ruin. He brushed a few pieces of rubble from his shoulders, looking up to see a rain shower of ink cascading towards him.

Cter shouted up at the approaching mass. "Hey, man! Thats was pure bred mahogany! Not cool!" Cter raised a green pen, the creatures ink body siphoning into the emerald bubble like a vial. It looked around wildly, pounding its fists against the green shield, pupil shifting from diamond to rhombus. Cter rapped a knuckle against the emerald surface, catching the creatures attention. "I don't think you appreciate the amount of paperwork that goes into cataloguing all this wanton property damage. So you'll excuse me if I'm not exactly eager to throw down in my neighborhood. Frisks got enough on their plate without having to bail me out, so why don't we set up a nice little play date where we can finish this elsewhere? Kay?"

"Think you've won, have you, pencil pusher?" it asked, not even bothering to hide its insolent tone.

Cter cocked an eyebrow, twirling the green pen in his hand. "Got any compelling reasons as to why I shouldn't?"

"Cter!"

Cter looked up, seeing Chara peering down at them from up above. But that wasn't the only thing…A tendril of ink, separate from the main host spiraled and reformed into a jagged edge, pressing itself against Chara's jugular, Chara's eyes widening in shock. "Shit!"

"Let me out," it said, "and I won't open their throat."

Cter's eyes narrowed. "Buddy friend guy pal, let me make one thing clear to you." Cter raised his hand, the ink edge shooting away from Chara's throat, liquid sucked into an empty pen. "You're gonna want to avoid threatening the people I care about, or you're gonna get exactly what you asked for." Fire bloomed below the green sphere, threatening to boil what was inside alive. "And trust me, for people like you, that's never a good thing."

"Scary," it said, sneering at him knowingly. Suddenly, the ink covering Cter's clothes lanced out, penetrating Cter like a pincushion. Blood shot out of Cter's mouth, dribbling down his chin. The green pen fell from Cter's hand, and with it, the shield.

"Bastard!"

It looked up in surprise, Chara descending from above, swinging a burnt frying pan through the majority of its mass. Ink splattered all over the walls as if it had been blasted by a twelve gauge. Chara felt solid resistance, and they saw the creature's **SOUL** get flung against the wall, the rest of its ink trailing after it, trying to reform a protective barrier around its life force.

Chara leapt next to Cter, shoving a piece of monster candy into his mouth, while also turning around, firing rapidly at the star-shaped **SOUL** with their empty gun **.** A ball of ink managed to envelop the **SOUL** and the sphere rolled frantically to avoid the bullets of **DETERMINATION**. It sped back up the walls, zig zagging as tracers chased after it into the night.

Chara's gun clicked several times, and they swore under their breath before allowing several pieces of their **SOUL** to refill the chambers. By then the enemy had vanished back up the hole in the roof.

"Cter, are you alright?!" they asked, hands probing the holes in Cter's shirt to see if the candy had properly sealed his wounds.

Cter backed up a little, somewhat uncomfortable with being handled so liberally. "Woah. Easy there, cold hands." He gripped their wrists to keep them from exploring any further. "I've taken worse beatings than this." Cter grinned lightly. "Nothing my **DETERMINATION** can't patch up."

"Oh..." Chara tugged their hands out of Cter's grip. "Sorry, I panicked, that's all..."

"Yeah..." said Cter, unsure of what else to say.

Chara scanned every inch of him them with their eyes. "You're sure you're not injured?"

"Healthy as an Aaron." Cter thumped his chest

"Good." Chara gripped Cter's shirt, Cter yelping in surprise. Chara leaned in, once again too close for Cter's comfort.

Cter rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, leaning backwards. "H-hey, what is this? Haha... A New Year's kis- waaaah!" Cter yelled as Chara launched him over their shoulder, flinging him back up the three stories he fell. He grunted as he barely caught the edge of the rooftop with his fingers. "Jesus louisus! What are you? The Hulk?!"

Chara jumped after him. Their leap carried them well past the hole, their knees bending slightly to cushion their fall. It was a remarkably inhuman feat. Cter had his magic. But to this day he still couldn't figure out where Chara's physical aptitude came from. Chara on the other hand seemed to have completely forgotten about him. They panned the rooftop with the sight of their revolver, twirling the burnt frying pan in their right hand, ready for an ambush.

"Uh...little help here?" Cter asked, still dangling precariously.

Chara groaned at them, exasperated. "You picked up two god damn steam rollers in your battle against Anarchy. What the hell happened to that upper body strength?"

"I sit at a computer for eighteen hours a day..."

Chara hunched over, muttering to themselves. "I can't believe this guy beats me at basketball."

"And I can't believe you beat me at that SMASH Bros tournament. You're not even a gamer. None of this makes like, any sense."

"That's because you only spam thunderbolt like a scrub."

"Still hanging from a crevasse over here…ah, screw it!" Cter summoned a key beneath his feet, his magic levitating him above the hole. He jumped off the platform, dusting himself off.

"So who, or what, the hell is that thing?" Chara asked, eyes still trained on the darkness around them.

"Probably an AU." Cter stroked his chin in thought. "Trying to remember if somebody made that before I got sucked in here. Now, what were they called again? Pajamas? PB & J? Ceaseless Discharge? No, wait, that's a Dark Souls boss...and my stripper name."

"It's Paperjam, you idiot!"

Cter and Chara looked up, Paperjam standing atop a flagpole, their silhouette cutting against the skyline.

"Man," said Cter, "how do bad guys always end up posing in high places? Like, how do they get up there? Do they just stand there for hours waiting for senpai to notice them?"

"I'm not a bad guy!" Paperjam said defensively. "And posing dramatically in high places makes you look really cool!"

" _Lame_ ," said Cter, rolling his eyes.

"W-what?!" Paperjam's jet-black cheeks blushed yellow. "This isn't lame!" It pointed a finger at Cter. "You're lame!"

Cter held a hand up to his ear. "What's that? I can't hear you over how much of a lame-tastic lame-lord you're being. And what's your beef with me anyway? You act like I dunked your oreos in a piss pot or something."

Chara spoke up frankly, "Cter, we killed his father."

Cter held up a finger, paused, then immediately lowered his hand. "Oh...right...uh...sorry he was a genocidal maniac?" He shrugged helplessly.

PJ clenched its fists, shouting at them, "Shut up! For the last time, I don't care about Error! This isn't about him!"

Cter glanced up, red shimmering briefly in his eyes. "Alright peanut butter and jam, I'll bite. What is it about then?"

Its pupil shifted from diamond to rhombus. "...Uh, well, thats easy! If I beat you th-"

"Okay," Cter raised a hand, "stop right there." Cter tapped his foot irritably on the rooftop, arms folded across his chest. "So you came here to prove to all the other world eaters that you're hot shit by taking out the guy who neutered Anarchy - the biggest fish in your pond; that about sum it up?"

"Well, no - I mean...that's part of it, but I'm also here bec-"

"-Geeze, can't a guy just get a moment's peace around here!" Cter threw his arms in the air.

Chara blinked, taken aback by Cter's outburst. "Uh, Cter?"

"I mean, what the hell is my life all of a sudden? A saturday morning cartoon?!"

PJ was more than a little baffled. "What is he talking ab-"

"Like, seriously! Am I gonna have a freakin villain of the week pop up at every opportunity? Christ!"

"Will you just list-"

"-No _you_ listen!" I am sick and tired of all you big ballin bastards, comin in here, tryin to fook with my shiz! I am a freaking teenager! I've got hormones, and puberty; trying to understand my place in the universe; all that shit! Can I go one freaking lifetime without some wannabe doomsday bringer wiping their ass on my front porch! I mean, all I want to do is read cringey smut, write crappy fics, and not have to deal with bat shit crazy masterminds plotting to create their bible thumping utopias. So screw your backstory! Screw your motives! And screw YOU!"

"..."

"Wow," said Chara, whistling sharply, "tell us how you really feel, Cter."

Cter snapped and pointed at them. "Nope. That's as close to it as you're ever gonna get, and that's just the tip of the iceberg."

"Oookay," said PJ, "if your done having your mental breakdown, I think I'm gonna go back to trying to kill you now."

"Emphasis on _trying_ ," Cter rushed forward, raising a blue pen, "soon to be failing!" He grabbed PJ's SOUL flinging him off the flag pole. PJ shot his strings, wrapping about the flagpole and morphing its feet into two cinderblocks, aiming at Cter's chest

Cter grabbed one of the blocks, slamming the creature into the ground, or tried to, but PJ wrapped around Cter's body, aiming to suffocate him in ink.

Cter called upon his magic, breathing a huge gust of air from his mouth that blew the majority of PJ's ink away from it's **SOUL**. The twinkling star retreated, tri-colored ink following after it. Several rounds grazed the creature's **SOUL** , Chara firing another burst of **DETERMINATION** with their gun.

PJ reformed, casting a grid shaped net that caught the bullets. It twisted, performing elaborate hand movements. Chara was caught off guard when a swarm of blue thread wrapped about their arm, tugging them towards PJ, who rapidly drew something out of thin air with their paint brush, Chara colliding with it face first.

"AH! My face!" They writhed on the ground, a huge black anvil lying next to them.

"Seriously?" Cter raced after PJ, fists blazing with red-flamed **DETERMINATION**. "Chara, you just got Wiley Coyote'd!" PJ ducked and weaved, avoiding Cter's jabs with mind bending flexibility. "Why did I never think of that?"

"I hate you," said Chara, rubbing their forehead and picking up their frying pan.

Blue strings encircled Cter's arm, PJ flinging him into the brick walls. It shot up the side of the wall, defying gravity as it dragged him alongside it, dirt and debris tearing off the side as Cter skidded along its length before exploding off the edge, the two of them descending towards the pavement.

Cter summoned his wings, jet black pinions tearing through the back of his shirt. Cter dived after PJ, summoning a beat blaster that was charging. PJ raised a hand, Cter being thrown off balance when some invisible force caused one of his ink wings to flap out of sync with the other, the boy spiraling out of control.

Chara gasped realizing that Cter was about to smash into the road. They sprinted as fast they could, leaping off the edge of the building arms outstretched. They slammed into Cter midair, pushing the two of them onto the rooftop of another building. They spun and rolled several times till they came to a complete stop, tangled in each other's limbs.

"Ow," said Cter, trying to ignore the worst carpet burn of all time.

"Cter," said Chara, lying directly beneath him, "get off me."

"Okay, just...gimme a sec."

"Why?" Chara asked, clearly annoyed and uncomfortable in the position they were in.

"We gotta let the readers have _some_ fan service, don't we?"

Chara's eyes widened. "SSSIIIN!" They knee'd Cter in the stomach, causing him to groan and roll off of them.

Cter winced, breathing heavily. "Agh! For the sake of the joke (cough) ...I have no regrets."

PJ's voice shouted at them from above. "I've got something you can regret!"

Cter and Chara looked up, a shower of arrows raining down on them. Cter summoned a shield wall of keys, arrowheads clattering off the surface. Suddenly the keys exploded, the pressure of the ink within being channeled against Cter's will. More arrows poured in. Above them, PJ's paintbrush frantically danced through the air, creating rudimentary illustrations of archers firing volley after volley at them.

"What the hell magic is that?" asked Chara, frantically swiping away arrows with their pan, and running for cover with Cter on their heels.

"It's my magic!" he cried, yelping as an arrow embedded itself into a key guarding his ass cheek. _Shit that was close!_

"I've never seen you **CREATE** anything out of ink!" At least, nothing more complex than a spear or sharpened blade.

"Didn't know I could! And it's not like I can either."

Chara looked at him, confused.

"I can't draw, remember?!"

The two of them jumped to another building, taking refuge behind a collection of pipes and an AC unit.

"It's made of ink, right?" asked Chara, "So, why aren't you controlling it?"

Cter gave Chara an incredulous stare. "What do you think I've been trying to do this whole time?!"

"Why isn't it working?"

"I dunno." Cter shrugged helplessly. "Doesn't seem to work when it's ink is concentrated near its SOUL."

"Guess the SOUL is our target then."

Cter nodded in agreement. "Good luck hitting it. It's been hiding the thing in different positions throughout its body. We either need a really big blast or a way to dissolve it."

Chara looked up hopefully. "Beat blasters?"

"Nope." Cter shook his head. "Too risky. We don't want people thinking a monster is wreaking havoc with their magic. And I'd have to up the juice to kill potential. Last thing we need is a stray beam hitting a bystander."

Chara frowned, seeming to be thinking.

"In either case," said Cter, "we need to lead it away from the city."

"And then what?"

Cter slammed his fist into the palm of his hand. "Then we can whoop its ass with abandon." He grinned, already enjoying the prospect.

* * *

 _[Kindred Theme Extended - League of Legends Soundtrack]_

 **Hollow**

Golden petals and blinding light…

But Outsider did not _wake_ to it. Sleep was detrimental. Impossible, actually. She'd lost any and all use for it, much like a shark who prowls the open oceans. They must always be in motion, for a sleeping sharks fate is to sink. She herself sinks, down and down, but not into the ocean. She descends into the earth.

In the midst of her descent, she ponders gravity's lack of influence. She does not 'fall' or 'plummet'. Delicately, she glides into the Underground, her drenched parasol unfurled, somehow performing the same function as a parachute. Logic screams at her that by all fundamental laws of nature it shouldn't be possible. But she can suspend her disbelief so long as she herself remains suspended.

She drifts past weathered rock and moist lichen, deeper into the heart of the mountain. Finally, her heels sink softly into a mound of golden flowers: a grave upon which so many children had collapsed, perhaps foreshadowing their own deaths. It is a morbid thought, but her thoughts have always been plagued by the macabre. She has landed in this spot many times. It has yet to be the omen of her demise, but the same cannot be said of everyone else.

"Howdy!" a familiar voice chirps behind her. "I'm Flowey! Flowey, the Flower!"

Her back is turned. But at the sound of his voice her mouth waters, and her tongue crawls over the curvature of her lips. Flowey's **DETERMINATION** exceeds most.

The flower grows irritated. Perhaps offended by her lack of response.

"Woah. You're one gloomy looking gal, arentcha?"

She turns to look at him behind the shadow of her veil. He recoils. Whatever he sees, whatever he feels, the animate flowers instincts can't ignore it.

Yet, there is nothing outwardly imposing about her. Just a dour girl on the cusp of adulthood, garbed in black mourners vestments. And she is hardly armed. Though she could make a weapon of her parasol if threatened. Still...the bleak funeral ensemble, the flimsy flower veil that shrouds her eyes, and the pacing...back and forth...back and forth. The air has grown thick and heavy with her unsettling presence. Though she moves it is languid, and every step takes one second too many. Her head remains rigidly fixated on him, as if he is all that exists.

Flowey swallows. He instantly hates her. There's just something about her. He hates the way she looks, the way she looks at _him_. No, it goes much deeper than hatred. Every cell in his body is screaming at him to either tear her apart or flee into the planet's core.

"H-hey," said the flower, "what's with that stupid face!? What are you, some emotionless _freak_?!"

She could almost smile at his hypocrisy. His inane attempt at false bravado. But the urge to 'smile' requires a capacity for empathy she sorely lacks. Instead, she furls her drenched parasol, hooking it between her arm and body, heedless of its saturation. Wordlessly, she extends her hands in front of her chest, as though urging the flower child to embrace her, the girl advancing as she places one foot before the other.

"What are you doing!?" He hisses. " I didn't say you could come near me!" A circle of pellets rises into the air. Flowey's face morphs into a savage monstrosity, his cheerful facade evaporating in an instant. Thorny vines burst from the ground, cracking like whips. A warning. Then she feels a throbbing sensation in her chest; an invisible force tugging at the very culmination of her being.

The prince attempts to summon her **SOUL**. He believes this to be his advantage. But this is his error, and it isn't long before that cruel sneer dissolves into sobering despair.

"W-what is that...what the hell IS THAT!?"

"This?" she asks, gesturing to the thin ribbon of **DETERMINATION** encircling her dark singularity. "This is the culmination of my very being." She blinks. "Well...what's left of it."

The flower wilts, red rivers of **DETERMINATION** seeping from his body, her dark tempest hungrily devouring his essence. His vines shrivel and blacken. The pellets fall one by one, littering the ground like dead autumn leaves.

Sweat drops pour down Flowey's face. Frantically, he closes his eyes, trying to focus. Nothing happens. His expression is tormented by confusion, anger, but mostly... _fear_.

"' _Why can't I reset_?' Right?" she asks monotonously.

Flowey jerks, mouth working silently, his words lost as though in a vacuum. But the Outsider is more than obliged to fill it.

"By Jove," she deadpans, "you must be so confused. How rude of me. Someone ought to show you how things work around here. Perhaps a demonstration is in order?"

Flowey's eyes widen in shock as she holds up the **RESET** button with a delicate but perfectly manicured hand. Cracks spider web across the **INPUT**. The once golden bar grays, warps, and sphaggettifies, swirling into the vortex of her hollow like water down a drain.

An encompassing silence follows. Like the calm before a storm, as if the world itself had drawn its last breath.

The quiet does not go unnoticed. Outsider stops pacing, her gaze vacant. Her time in the antiverse comes unbidden to her mind. Stark white overcomes her vision...Then pitch black. Black fades to white and fades to black once again... But when she opens her eyes the colors of the world are there to greet her, and the mosaic it offers is beyond breathtaking: the golden petals of the flower child, dull browns and grays of metamorphic caverns, the infinite azure of a sky peeking through the lens above them. And finally, the crimson flood of **DETERMINATION** bleeding from her soulless companion. So many hues. So many shades. So many choices.

It's torture,and it prompts a recital:

"Day after day, day after day,  
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;  
As idle as a painted ship  
Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, everywhere,  
And all the boards did shrink;  
Water, water, everywhere,  
And not a drop to drink."

She dips her head, veil shadowing the top half of her face. An arm wraps around her stomach, right hand squeezing her left elbow tightly. "Could you…" she glances to the side, "speak to me...one last time? I'd...be ever so grateful..."

But Flowey does not speak. He screams, and she winces at the sudden pitch. It is not ideal, but he appears to have found his voice again.

Delightful.

He howls in mindless terror as she resumes her inevitable approach, hands outstretched. Clutched in those pale hands is her hollow, the mesmerizing spiral of death incarnate.

"While screaming _is_ an improvement," she says chidingly, "it's no substitute for intelligible conversation."

He should run, but he is petrified. He should fight, but he is helpless. She can smell it. She can smell his fear. If only he could've smelled hers before it was too late.

* * *

Outsider kneels, gazing at the inanimate golden flora. She brushes it with the tips of her fingers, savoring the texture, the soft velvety feel of plant life. It is in moments like these, when she basks in the nourishment of creation, of worlds, that she feels an iota of what she used to be. It's almost enough to overwhelm her; bring back old senses, old feelings; emotions that have long deceased into gray twilight.

"Flowey?" she asks, caressing a golden petal.

Silence.

Outsider isn't surprised. She always asks. And like always…

She rises, shaking her head. "Just a regular flower."

Outsider's veil flutters as she embarks towards the rocky entrance to the Ruins. Her eyes spot something on the ground however, and she halts abruptly, noticing the purple and white delta robe - abandoned. It's as though Toriel had decided it were an inconvenience without regard for her own decency. Lady Dreemur had been on her way. But the doting mother never gets to see her in person. There are few who can.

Dust rises from within the robe. The motes circle her, forming a thin silver halo with Outsider as its nucleus. Her accretion disk will build as she progresses. Her satellites will propagate in number. But the ravenous hunger will never cease.

She must hurry. Most of her reserves were spent in the antiverse. Time is a vital commodity, one she can barely afford, and the flower was but a morsel; monsters even less. She turns to resume her migration. But…

The crumpled delta robe lingers in the corner of her vision. Her tooth-marked fingers twitch. She approaches the garment, leaning down to pluck it from the ground. Promptly, the dolorous girl shakes it, before folding the cloth into practiced, wrinkleless squares.

A golden, rectangular item **INPUT** shimmers into being. It floats in mid-air, and Outsider reaches out, slowly feeding the folded robe into its luminous bar. Once stored, she flicks the edge of the golden **INPUT** with a finger, causing it to spin rapidly like a top before it winks from existence.

She nods, satisfied.

Then she frowns, her brows furrowing in thought.

She sighs resolutely before snapping her fingers. Dozens of item **INPUTS** blink into existence, each golden rectangle orbiting her in elliptical patterns. Eventually, she'll acquire hundreds…thousands… _Millions_.

"I suppose," she says aloud, her heels clicking through the darkness of the Ruins, "I've no cause to leave an unsightly mess." Dust and determination races towards her. "There's no reason I can't be civil. Is there?"

 _No_ , she thought, carefully navigating past dripping puddles of amalgam.

 _None whatsoever._

* * *

 **Future**

Future barely heard the scientists. His mind couldn't have been more scattered. His Beat Dome had taken a huge chunk out of him. More than he would've liked. Not too mention he had slept for only five hours since he'd returned to his chambers, only for him to be woken to attend the war council meeting in Goat Dad's throne room.

Placed in the center of the room was a round table with Asgores... _His_ throne pulled next to it. Seated around him was his royal steward Grillby, the human partisan resistance leader Grayson, and Alphys' team of Royal Scientists: Ficus, Cheshire, and Sinister.

Future appraised the three scientists. As far as monsters went they were pretty off putting. Ficus had a bulbous head and large oval eyes that never blinked. One could have mistaken him easily for a little gray martian. Chesire was a feline humanoid like Burgerpants, except he wore a pinstripe suit and tie under his lab coat and always wore a pair of swirly glasses. His face was permanently shrouded in blackness, a darkness sharply contrasted by his stark white grin. But the most unnerving one was Sinister, whose enormous head sprouted from the ground, the rest of its body hidden beneath, giving no hint as to its actual size. Its cracked mouth hung open, as though it were waiting for something to jump into its cavernous maw. As for where they came from, nowhere was as good a guess as any. Technically speaking, they did. Few people knew the truth. They had been dadster's followers; brought back by the unmatched intellect of Doctor Gaster...right before he perished.

 _Even when you're gone dadster, you still manage find ways to help us poor bastards when we need it._

And they did need them. They needed every advantage they could get.

Future adjusted his crooked crown, sitting up in his chair. He was king. A shitty king. But he could at least act like a good one. He cleared his voice, silencing them so they could await his words.

"Grillby. Grayson. What are we up against?"

The fire elemental exchanged a heavy glance with the weathered, middle-aged man known as Grayson. Grayson leaned back in his chair, causing the wooden frame to creak. He was a chiseled, hard looking man, with features carved like flint, and eyes that spoke of combat and bloodshed. He was coated in dirt, debris, and so much dried blood it couldn't be said whether it belonged to him or his enemies. He must have been called straight from the battlefield to attend. He looked as tired as Cter felt right now. The wood chair groaning could just as easily 've been Grayson's bones.

"They've got us pinched, your majesty," said Grayson. "There's just too damn many of those fanatics. We held the city for as long as we could, tried to nip at their heels while they advanced through the streets. Fought building to building, street to street...I lost a lotta boys. Warfare like that ain't pretty, and we don't have the firepower. The AMD just keeps streaming in like rats. They'll have a hell of a time trying to dig us out of our positions in the mountain. If you think close quarters street fighting is bad, cave battles are even worse. Our tunnel systems are well established along the slopes. We'll make em bleed for every elevation and we have the high ground, but they have the men and the munitions to grind us down. It's only a matter of time."

No good news then. But what else was he expecting? Life to throw him a bone? Fat chance. His thoughts returned to the task at hand.

"Grillby, what are the numbers?"

Grillby pushed his glasses up the bridge of his infernal nose, rifling through a stack of papers, that for some mysterious reason were unaffected by his flames. "Ours or theirs?"

"Both."

Grillby took a deep breath, the precursor to a devil's arithmetic no one was keen on hearing or acknowledging.

"Approaching from the North: 20,000 infantry, twenty five armored landcruisers, seventeen airborne weapons platforms.

Approaching from the West: 50,000 infantry, one hundred armored land cruisers, no air units.

Approaching from the East: 10,000 infantry, forty armored land cruisers, one hundred airborne weapons platforms.

Approaching from the South…: 80,000 infantry, two hundred armored land cruisers, and seventy airborne weapons platforms. They'll encircle us in twelve hours."

Cter coughed, scratching the sides of his cheek with a finger. He was going to have to admit it sooner or later. "Adjust your numbers Grillbs. We won't be worrying about the east anymore."

Grillby raised a flaming eyebrow at that. "Pardon, your majesty?"

Cter mumbled. "der al ded... i kild em."

"Your majesty, what was that?"

"I uh...took care of it."

"You... _took care of it_?" asked Grillby.

"Well. Yeah. I kinda sorta killed them all. So we can scratch that off our bucket lists."

"Oh, I see. Ahem. Well, excuse me. That just leaves a mere 150,000 infantry, 225 land cruisers, and 87 assault aircraft, versus 315 irenic Monsters, 5,000 battle weary renegades, a washed up bartender, and a pathological liar. Much better odds."

Cter grinned. "I like to think I've evened the playing field."

"Your majesty," said Doctor Ficus, "While your combat abilities, scientifically unfeasible and baffling they may be, are impressive, I ask that you please reconsider executive order: Last Resort."

"Sure." Cter shrugged. "I'll consider it. But only so long as we've exhausted all our options."

Ficus looked at him with its large ovular eyes. "Have we not?" he asked neutrally.

"Not unless I say so."

Grayson looked over at Cter, incredulous. "Good lord! What other option is there? I thought that was the whole point of this meeting in the first place! We are going to be massacred! My men have fought and died for their city, but now its taken. The only thing left to protect are the families who are harbored here."

"Which the Monsters have graciously accepted into their care."

"That they have, your majesty. And I have not forgotten. But my men...they're just civilian soldiers, not kamikaze pilots. If surrendering means that they and their families will be spared then…"

"Then they'll abandon the Monsters to genocide. Is that what you're getting at?"

Grayson slammed his fists down on the table, rising from his chair. "That's not fair, damn it! I didn't say that! And it won't have to come to that if you'd just-"

Cter raised a hand. "Order one of the Monsters to absorb a human **SOUL** , right? Become an all powerful, unstoppable being with abilities beyond any and all comprehension. A demi-god influenced by human emotions, human desires, and all the dangers that come with it. That's what you all want me to do? And who's going to offer their **SOUL** then, Grayson. One of your men? A refugee? You?"

Grayson looked at Cter unflinchingly. "If it comes to that. I won't ask it of my men. Or the refugees. And we can't use the AMD soldiers. If what you said about the two **SOULS** having shared control is true, we don't want a human poisoned by AMD rhetoric to have access to limitless power. So, yes. I volunteer for Executive Order: Last Resort. I'll put a bullet through my own skull if I have to."

A chorus of silence was left in the wake of Grayson's declaration. He meant it.

"That won't be necessary," said the enormous grisly looking mouth head of a monster. Sinisters mouth split wide open as it spoke, and it was no exaggeration to say he could've swallowed the whole table in one bite. "We still have the good doctors DT extraction machine. Theoretically, we could re-engineer it to extract an entire **SOUL**. Your end need not be so grisly, Partisan commander."

"What does it matter?" asked Grayson. "Death is death, and I've seen quite enough in this lifetime. We don't have time for theoretical engineering. Your scientific expertise needs to be concentrated elsewhere."

Grillby spoke up. "I agree. About focusing on other issues that is. As to Last Resort, that is precisely why it's called that. So long as our majesty believes we can survive without literally selling our souls, I'm inclined to hear what he has to say."

Cter was just about to thank Grillby for his support, until everyone's heads simultaneously swiveled towards him, pinning the king to his throne. Cter smoothed his features and cleared his throat, attempting a kingly disposition. _Thanks for putting me on the spot, Grillbs. No pressure. I only have the fate of an entire race resting on my shoulders._

Chara's ghost appeared, sitting on the edge of the round table with their back facing everyone, arms folded across their chest, invisible to all but Cter. " _You've been king for a while now, Cter. I'd think you'd be used to it._ "

Used to it? Why did they think he made Grillby his steward in the first place? _He_ was supposed to answer all the hard questions. Things were so much easier back when being a monarch was just a symbolic waste of taxpayer dollars. He addressed Chara with his thoughts.

" _Cter and 'responsibility' are like oil and water. We don't exactly mesh. Hence why everythings fooked sideways._ "

Chara just looked at him, a hint of sadness and regret lingering in their eyes. _"Well, this may not mean much coming from me, but I think you have what it takes."_

All evidence to the contrary. Cters eyes wandered over the geographic maps and model figurines spread across the table. There was a lot more blue than he would have liked. The blue figurines represented the AMD. The red was the Partisans, and any Monsters with magic useful enough to be utilized in support roles. Cter had been adamant about Monsters not being active combatants. No more would die on his watch. Even the support roles had been a contentious issue between him and Grayson. Anything could happen in battle. A stray bullet...mortars...snipers. AMD zealots were known to ignore entire squadrons of Partisans just to gain the glory of 'slaying' a Monster. Cter finally let up when Grillby intervened; reasoning that the Partisans willingness to fight and die to protect Monsters would be improved if they could see them providing some form of aid. Cter didn't have an argument against that. It made sense, and he trusted Grillby's judgement. But still. He didn't have to like it. Cter cleared his throat, trying to focus on what needed to be done.

"As to our tactics and strategy-"

Suddenly the ornate wooden double doors of the throne room burst wide open. Knight 1 and Knight 2 striding into the room, a child between them. The two knights hailed their king.

"Your majesty," said Knight 1, armor rattling as he saluted sharply, "Like, we totally have searched as you commanded us n' stuff."

"..." said Knight 2, nodding silently.

 _Finally,_ thought Cter, rising from his seat. He bent over, resting both palms flat against the table. His eyebrows narrowed at the young child that had been escorted with them into the throne room. "Who's the kid?"

The child in question looked up blankly, squinting as though they were having trouble seeing. They looked younger than Cter when he'd been forced into this crazy place. Like most kids, the boy wore a striped shirt, aqua with a single purple bar sweeping horizontally across the torso. They had bleach blonde hair, and chocolate brown eyes. Cter noticed their forehead was sweating. Their breathing was also shallow and uncertain. And he couldn't help but note a lack of color in their face. They looked...terrified...or...in pain?

Knight 1 glanced nervously at his silent companion, but Kight 2 looked at Knight 1 relentlessly, urging him to explain himself. "Oh, um...right, the kid. Well, thing is your majesty...we weren't able to find Alphys, but the kid says they were the last one to see her.

Cter inhaled deeply through his nose, rubbing his temples. The weight of his crown seemed to be pressing down on him more and more lately. The last thing they needed was rumors circulating the Underground that their head royal scientist had abandoned them in their darkest hour. Cter didn't believe it. _Wouldn't_ believe it. Alphys was better than that. She wasn't the bravest individual, but she was no coward. Not in his eyes.

"Does anyone else know?" he asked.

Both of the Knights straightened sharply. "No one, sir! Like, we played it off totally cool and everything. We was all like, 'Yo we was wonderin where 'Alph is at. Happen to see her? No? Okay, coolio.' We totes kept it on the down low for ya. But…" Knight 1 shifted his helmet to peer down at the kid, "we only came up with one lead."

Cter approached from around the table. His gaze lingering over the child. "I take it this boy is your lead then."

Both Knights simply nodded.

"I see. Something wrong, kid? You don't look so good."

The child flashed a small smile. "Samuel."

Cter looked questioningly at the boy.

"That's my name...in case anyone was wondering."

Cter grinned lightly, wanting to smack his own head. "Sorry ki-...Samuel. Pretty rude of us adults, eh? Talkin over your head like that. Callin you kid n' all like you're not even there. I hated when adults did that to me too. Sorry. We've just got a lot on our minds right now as you can imagine. Or is that just a poor excuse for being inconsiderate? Hell if I know." Cter shrugged. "Maybe I just want to get to the point as soon as possible." Cter snapped his fingers. "Hey, Grillbs, see if you can find someone to bring the kid some hot food and a glass of water."

"NO!" the child exclaimed, startling everyone. Samuel flinched a little, realizing he had just shouted at the King of the Underground, but he quickly rallied. "There's no time! I just came to tell you what I know. People are in danger. And you need to find Alphys."

Cter scratched the back of his head, sighing loudly, but grinning at the same time. He couldn't help but admire the kids fortitude. "Heh, alright munchkin. You're a tough one, I can see that now. But I guess that's to be expected from a purple soul. Maybe we should have you lead the resistance? Then I wouldn't have to listen to Grayson's bellyaching all the time."

A loud ' _harumph_ ' sounded from Grayson's chair.

"Alright, Samuel," said Cter, "how bout we get that food for ya after your done explaining things. Wish i could give you a reward right now but-"

"I don't care about rewards. I just want to help…" The kid turned their head muttering quietly to themselves. "It's my fault she's gone anyway."

Cter raised his eyebrows at this. "What do you mean it's your fault?" asked Cter, looking at them intensely.

Samuel looked up, shocked that Cter had been able to hear them. The boys lip started to quiver, and for a moment Cter thought they were going to break down then and there, but somehow the child managed to reign it in. His words came out steady and composed. "She was panicking. I noticed her trying to make her way through the crowd but...there were too many people and her glasses ended up being crushed. I gave her mine instead."

"That was very thoughtful of you," said Grillby

"Well, it wasn't!" The boy glanced away once more, a blush creeping up their cheeks from being rude a second time. They continued speaking, avoiding the adults gazes. "I thought I could at least help her find her loved ones. But..I didn't know she was the head scientist. And I didn't know she was looking for you. When I heard her shout your name, I couldn't believe it. But when the guards started asking around about her, I knew something was wrong. That she'd gone missing…" They choked back a sob, tears forming in their eyes. Samuel squeezed their eyes closed, unable to look at them anymore. Unable to handle the guilt. "That's why I came here! I'm so sorry! It's all my fault! Please forgive me, your majesty! If it weren't...if it weren't for me…"

A hand touched his shoulder, Samuel looking up in surprise. Cter gazed down at them, his face beaconed by a weary smile. But there was a softness in Cter's eyes that Grillby noted which the fire elemental hadn't seen in a long time.

"Don't beat yourself up over it kid. Whatever Alphys intended was her decision. You didn't make her do anything. It makes me happy to know that wherever she is, she can atleast see what's in front of her face."

Samuel's hands shook. Their face contorting into anger. "Why?"

"Kid?"

"Why? Why won't you just punish me?!" The kid shoved Cter backwards, Cter's eyes widening in shock. "Don't you understand!? This is...this is exactly what she wan-Aargh!"

A fountain of blood vomited from the kid's mouth, his body trembling, everyone at the round table rising to their feet in an instant. The kid stumbled, pupils shrinking, eyes dilated in agony and fear. They clutched their stomach, and Cter could hear sicking sounds within their body.

"Holy hell, kid!" Cter reached a hand for their shoulder. A shot rang out, a bullet penetrating the tiles between Cter and Samuels feet, Cter looking back in shock and outrage, giant pens hovering in the air above his shoulders. "Grayson! Stand down!"

Grayson had his sidearm drawn, aiming straight at the child. "Your majesty, get behind the table! Now!"

Grillby had his sleeves rolled up, flames spiralling up his arm, eyes narrowed at Grayson for firing in Cter's vicinity. A flaming hand shot out, melting the barrel of the gun. "Grayson, you dare attack our king?!" Grillby flung out another oversized, flaming hand, restraining Grayson before he could draw another pistol.

"You fool!" Grayson spat. "The child! Get him away from the child!"

 _[Glitchtale OST - A Welcoming Smile]_

Cter couldn't believe what was happening. Had everyone gone bat shit insane! Cter's eyes widened in shock even more when he looked at the child's face, blood pouring in rivers from his eyes and mouth. But what was more horrifying was his agonized screams as he stumbled blindly towards the table, hands clutching their stomach. They hit the edge of the table, vomiting more of their fluids onto the maps and figurines littering the surface. Samuel rolled over, lying supine, their eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling. he opened his mouth, but instead of more blood and screams, a voice issued from within, a voice that was not his own. " _Tee hee hee._ Oh this is so much fun. So much fun! I'm so happy to see you again, Hacky. It's been such a long time! Hee hee hee hee! But now? We can finish what we started, all those years ago!"

Cter felt something knock him to the floor and the light completely vanish just as a sickening pop, and an explosion of blood doused the entire room.

Light suddenly poured back into Cter's eyes like a crack through a door. He realised he was inside of something. He could see jagged teeth as though he were peering from inside of a mouth. It was then Cter realized he was inside Sinister. Sinister had placed itself between Cter and the child, swallowing Cter within the safety of its mouth.

Cter looked out of that mouth to see Grillby, glasses partially covered in blood, his flames shrunk close to his body, a sure sign of distress.

The other two scientists had taken refuge beneath the table. Grayson was completely painted in blood and gore that was not his own. They could hear breathing, labored, and ragged. On the table was the upper half of Samuel's body, gazing with trembling eyes at a pink monstrosity, floating in circles above him. It had a long eel like body, and a ghoulish mouth. The rest of its serpentine form slowly withdrew itself from Samuel's lower half before opening its mouth wide, regurgitating. Feet appeared from its jaws, then small girlish legs, shoulders, a head, and finally...a girl.

She tilted her head to the side, eyes wide with playful innocence. She stood completely upright on the tables surface, tip tapping across crimson puddles to pick Samuel's torso from off the wood, hugging him tightly to her slight frame. She stroked his hair and cooed softly into his ear, giggling as she clutched the ruin of Samuel's body. She rubbed her cheek against his like her favorite stuffed animal. Blood dripped into the soil at her feet as she licked a spatter of scarlet from his cheek. Samuel shuddered.

"Wh-why?..." he asked. "I did...as you told me...please…"

The girl continued to nuzzle him affectionately. " _Tee hee hee_. I appreciate all your hard work, Samuel. I really do. Such a good little boy. So good at following instructions. You deserve a special reward. A gold star!"

The boy's glazed eyes lit up briefly. His voice cracked with delirious joy. "M-my family. Then... you'll...release them?"

"What are you talking about, silly billy?" She bopped his nose playfully, then whispered in his ear, " ** _I can't bring back the dead._** "

A sharp pink spike penetrated Samuel's chest, skewering his **SOUL** from his body, Samuel gurgling in pain.

"Hush now, Sammy. It's time. Time for your special reward. Time for you to feed Akumu!"

The pink ghoul's eyes widened, and it wheezed excitedly, diving to chomp on the purple skewer.

An orange arrow appeared under the girl's feet, knocking her off balance, and flinging her into a wall, the creature known as Akumu whining, rushing towards the aid of its master.

Time seemed to slow down as Samuel fell through the air, his body about to collide with the cold tiles at his feet. Arms, filled with warmth and strength encircled him instead, and the last thing Samuel saw before his eyes closed forever and his **SOUL** shattered was the grief stricken face of a king.

Cter held the lifeless half body of a child in his arms. His head bent over, hand cradling the back of their skull in his hand.

"Bette Noir…" he growled. Cter glared hatefully at the girl. She stared cheerfully back with a doll like grin, head bent at an awkward angle, neck snapped from her impact. Cter stood, still clutching the child, left eye burning into a pillar of red flame.

 **"** **You** ** _bitch_** **."**

* * *

 _Review Questions :_

1) What's your initial thoughts and reactions after reading this chapter?

2) What was your favorite moment(s) and why? What was your least favorite moment(s) and why?

3) What was your favorite or most memorable line(s) of dialogue and why?

4)What are your thoughts on the characters? Who stood out to you the most? Who are your favorites?

5) one a scale of 1-10 how much did you enjoy the chapter

6) On a scale of 1-10 how eager are you to read the next chapter?

7) Do you have any predictions?

 **If you didn't guess by now, George R.R martin and Gen Urobuchi are my spirit animals. This bodes well for the characters, doesn't it? =)**


	7. SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

Heya everyone. So your probably wondering If im dead or something. Well, no, I'm just having issues with what I want from my story. I'm incredibly self critical and I've been working on chapters without actually posting them because I don't want them to be shit. Im thinking of just writing the whole manuscript before I even think about posting again.

BUUUUT I have some great news for all you DOubletale fans. So I went hunting for an artist who'd be willing to do some comic panel commissions for me and I introduced them to Doubletale. I was only planning on having them do a few select scenes...

BUT they liked the story so much they said "FUCK IT" and decided to illustrate the whole damn thing. And I like what I see so far. Only the title cover has been posted so far but if you want to see their other work they ,made a fanatstic Undertale Red comic. So if thats anything to go by Doubletale is definitely in good hands. So if you have a deviant art account go look for **KuroNekoPallete** on deviantart, and give em a Watch, comment on their stuff, and give em all the support and love you can.


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